Moustaches
by Scoops838
Summary: Tag to 4:5 Dead and Unburied. Gibbs was back and had shed the moustache but with it came a change of attitude that everyone was noticing and commenting on. Sure he had to deal with the usual infractions of the team, but despite the old Gibbs being back visually at least, there was still something different. Contains Spanking and Adult Discipline
1. Chapter 1

Shaving off his moustache wasn't supposed to be a signal; it wasn't supposed to mean anything and yet it seemed that most if not all of his team seemed to be obsessed with the fact that it was now gone.

He'd heard Tim at the scene of the dead marine who'd been dug up and then left in the arm chair of the property for sale warn Ducky that the "Old Gibbs was back." Abby had commented on it down in her lab too. Finally Ducky had snapped at him that, "shaving off his moustache had brought back his usual impatience."

The fact of the matter was simply that he couldn't stand the sawdust getting stuck in it when he worked on his boat. However he had to wonder why everyone was so fascinated and worried by it.

They all seemed to think that it marked the start of things getting back to being stricter; an end to the DiNozzo era. Things did need shaking up a bit, he needed to put his stamp back on his team, remind them that Tony was no longer in charge and he was no longer on his Mexican sabbatical.

He didn't mean to do it to undermine everything Tony had done, it was just that he needed things to be as they were once before; he needed the team to anticipate his needs and requests, carry out his orders without hesitation, and they just didn't seem to be up to speed.

For instance, two days ago Tim had questioned why he was being requested to get down on his hands and knees at the crime scene, Tony had to be reminded to start sketching, Ducky was a little dismissive of him, almost angry with him, when he had gone down to autopsy to find out if there was a preliminary cause of death. Abby had continually tried to get out of him what type of underwear he wore whilst all he needed her to concentrate on was her job. Neither Ziva nor Tony had questioned the sense in putting the two grieving fiancés of the same dead man in the same room.

Yesterday Ducky had snapped at him again, something he never really did before Mexico; Ziva was constantly making sexual innuendos in an attempt to get Tony to react and do or say something stupid; Tim seemed incapable of thinking at all, walking in with a shirt covered in blood and importantly the DNA evidence they needed and not even thinking about preserving it as evidence.

What exactly had happened in his absence he had no idea, but it needed to stop. He'd give them all just a little more leeway and then he would step in to put an end to it. Maybe he had been too nice so far; perhaps the old Gibbs did need to make a return.

That leeway ran out quicker than even he thought; Tim and Tony were the first to test the boundaries of his temper and find themselves sent to the conference room to wait for him.

The two waited nervously in the old room at the far end of the second floor of the building. It had been some time since they were last in here and not keen to relive the old memories.

The door slammed open as Gibbs stormed in, coffee mug in one hand and the discarded shoe of one of the two fiancés left after he had broken up the fight in the other.

Neither Tony nor Tim needed to be reminded of the need for them to stand front and center whilst their boss marched back and forth in front of them trying to control his temper enough to find the words he needed.

Hoping to get it all over and done with sooner rather than later, Tony spoke up first.

"Boss, we realize we overstepped the mark…" he began only to be cut of by a glare.

"Overstepped the mark," spat Gibbs, "even for you Dinozzo that has to be the understatement of the year."

Looking to Tim, he asked, "anything you want to say to justify what just happened down there in the bullpen?"

"No Boss," came the mumbled reply.

"I thought we were supposed to be the MCRT," shouted Gibbs, "I thought that meant that we are the best agents the agency has, grown up, mature. Don't you think?"

"Yes Boss," they both uttered wishing he would just get to the point and get this over with, the anticipation of what they both knew was to come was uncomfortable and unsettling and they way he has hitting the sole of the discarded shoe against the palm of his hand as he spoke made both of them rather nervous.

"So what the hell makes you think that shouting out 'Chick Fight' anywhere, let alone in the middle of the bullpen was ever a good idea DiNozzo," he asked.

"Well Boss," Dinozzo tried to answer, "I was just trying to draw peoples attention to it so that they could help break it up."

"Cut the crap Tony, I'm not an idiot and don't ever try to lie to me again," he shouted. Tony could feel the small flecks of spittle on his face but dared not move his hand to wipe them away. The Boss was not in the mood.

""Sorry Sir," Tony replied, wondering to himself why he had even tried to get away with lying about it.

"And you Agent McGee," he turned on the younger agent, "do you always do as Tony directs?"

"Boss?" questioned McGee unsure as to what Gibbs was getting at.

"He tells you to start filming and you just can't wait to show off your new film gizmo thingy," yelled Gibbs exasperated.

"It's a 5 mega pixel, 15 x zoom…." Tim broke off; Gibbs clearly was not looking for a technical breakdown of the words 'gizmo thingy'. "Sorry boss," he uttered.

"This is not high school, this is not two kids taking shots at each other behind the bleachers. This is a federal god damned agency and you are supposed to be highly skilled, highly trained agents not hormonal teenage boys getting their kicks watching two hot girls fighting," he lectured.

Both men bowed their heads in shame; they had known at the time they should have broken it up but for that few minutes they just let immaturity take over.

"So you able to tell me, what the hell possessed you to do it?" he demanded, "Or should I tell you what I think?

Neither of the two young men responded, each hoping that the other would say something, neither prepared to be the first to open their mouths.

"So now neither of you have anything to share with the room?" prodded Gibbs. "Well then listen and listen well."

Moving in front of Tony, "You Dinozzo think that now you aren't the lead you can revert to being the comic relief of the group, perhaps to hide the fact that you are peeved at the fact that I'm back," his cruel words not part of his usual lecturing tools cut deep into Tony.

Turning to McGee, "and you McGee just can't resist the chance to show off, to impress the comedian of the room, in the hope that he will want you as part of his gang, am I right?" he questioned.

"No Boss, it's not like that," argued McGee, "I just didn't really think it through," he explained.

"DiNozzo, anything to add," questioned Gibbs.

Tony just shook his head dejectedly, "No Boss."

"So maybe you both just need a little reminder of the job you are here to do, so here's what's going to happen," he said, "first DiNozzo you are going to lose the jeans and get your backside over that table, Tim you are going to use your camera and film it. Then the pair of you can change positions. Understand?"

"Boss please no," begged Tony, "I will take the spanking but please not with an audience."

"So you are discerning about what should and should not be captured on film?" asked Gibbs.

"Look I get it but please don't make Probie film it," he tried again.

"And you McGee, how do you feel about it?" asked Gibbs turning to the younger of the two boys.

Tim stood frozen to the spot, pale and with a sheen of cold sweat clearly forming on his brow. His mouth opened to speak but no words were forthcoming.

"How things change when the shoe is on the other foot," commented Gibbs. "Tim go and wait outside." Tim did as he was told, albeit it was more like he was on autopilot rather than choosing his own direction.

As the door closed behind Tim, Gibbs turned back to DiNozzo. "No doubt you think I'm being cruel Tony, with what I've said," he started, "and whilst I don't mean all of it I think there is some truth in it."

Tony did not answer.

"You got anything you want to say?" asked Gibbs.

Gritting his teeth ever so slightly so he didn't let slip what he was truly thinking, Tony took in a breath and responded, "what do you expect from me Gibbs, you walk out on me, on the team, we hear nothing from you and then you just waltz back in and take over and I'm just expected to take it without a word. Well maybe its not that easy to get used to being used and then dumped, maybe its taking me a little time to re-adjust to the role you want me to fill, and what exactly is that role Gibbs? Hey? One minute you are shooting me down and reminding me that I'm no longer in charge, and then you have a go because I'm not taking charge. Where do I fit in this team?"

"You are my SFA DiNozzo, I thought you knew how to do that job," replied Gibbs.

"Look," said Tony, "the camera thing and the chick fight comment was stupid, shouldn't have happened and I accept I should be hauled over the coals for it and the rest, well I will work on it."

With that, Tony turned towards the table, lowered his jeans and waited for the first smack. However there was no tell tale sound of Gibbs unbuckling his belt, instead Gibbs moved close to his side and began to spank him with the discarded shoe. It did not sting as much as the belt nor hurt as deeply as the paddle but it was still going to leave an unpleasant reminder of the incident.

As he continued the spanking, Gibbs lectured him, "You will not disgrace yourself or this Agency with behaviour like you did today," he began, "its below you Tony, you are better than that." He added, "short term cheap childish thrills will have long-term serious consequences."

Ordinarily by this stage Tony would be signing up to promise to be an angel, but this time he just winced at each blow and let silent tears fall. After fifteen strikes with the sole of the shoe, Gibbs stopped. As he went to put his hand on the boys shoulder to tell him the slate was now clean, Tony shrugged his hand away.

"May I stand up Sir," he asked.

"Tony…" Gibbs paused at a loss for what to say, "Yes of course."

"Thank you Sir," Tony stood and pulled his jeans back up. Gibbs could see tear stains on his cheeks but Tony continued, "should I send Agent McGee in?"

Gibbs simply nodded. What was wrong? Why had it been different?

As Tim walked back into the room to meet the same fate as Tony had received Gibbs was still in a little shock at Tony's reaction to the punishment.

"Shall I drop my slacks?" questioned Tim after a minute stood waiting for Gibbs to say or do anything.

This seemed to bring Gibbs back from whatever place he had gone to in his mind. He nodded to Tim and moved to the side of him, placing a hand onto the boys back and bringing the shoe down onto the upturned backside in front of him.

The spanking he delivered to Tim was no harder or longer than that he had delivered to Tony, but the effects of it were totally different.

When Gibbs finally returned to the bullpen both young men were working silently. Maybe he had just imagined the strange atmosphere, he hoped that was it.


	2. Chapter 2

For the rest of the day Tony remained focused on the case. No more messing about with Tim and the others. Sure he still joked and laughed with them, he was at ease with them, it helped that they were not currently reminding him of his loss of status, as had been the trend lately.

However his relationship with Gibbs was a strange one. At times he would be keen to share his findings and ideas with him on the case but when Gibbs would ask him if he was ok or about something non-work related he would go quiet and solemn, replying politely but not inviting any further discourse on the matter.

Gibbs had been so tied up in the case and in his concerns about the previous run in with Tony that he failed to notice that McGee who had gone to drop some evidence off to Abby some hour ago had still not returned. It wasn't until he himself needed to catch up with Abby in the lab that he realized where the junior had disappeared to.

As he approached the lab he was not met by the usual sounds of Abby's music blasting away but rather by the excited conversation going on between her and McGee.

"You see it yet" she asked.

"Abby I've been looking at this thing for five minutes I don't see anything I consider to be art," said Tim still continuing to look at the photo he had taken at the scene of the dead marine, dug up and then planted in an arm chair in front of a switched off TV set.

Gibbs sucked air in through his teeth. Tim was letting himself be distracted by Abby again and Abby was on her own flight of fantasy about the beauty of the captured image.

The conversation turned to the chick fight in the bullpen, McGee just couldn't wait to show Abby the footage on his phone. Gibbs could not believe what he was seeing and hearing. Only a few hours ago he had tanned the backsides of both of his boys and now here was McGee proudly showing off the film again. Had he not learnt anything.

Instead of marching right in there he chose to walk back to the stairwell for a moment. He needed to calm down. In doing that however he missed the fact that Abby and Tim were actually just killing a few minutes whilst waiting for the results of the DNA profiles from the dead marines skivvies.

What made it all the worse was that the moment he chose to return was the moment Abby asked McGee to play her the footage again.

Just as Abby was telling McGee which part was her favourite part, Gibbs popped up unheard, and undetected behind the pair.

"Which part?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

Abby and Tim bolted up straight and gulped. They recognized that deceptively calm tone in Gibbs' voice. It meant trouble.

"Boss I can explain," began Tim in an attempt to divert Gibb's question about Abby's statement.

"Better begin with an explanation as to why you still have that footage on your phone despite our little discussion earlier," Gibbs advised him.

" I didn't think I should get rid of it," stated Tim, quite matter of factly and far braver in tone than he actually felt at that moment in time.

"You thought? What's your thought about following orders?" demanded Gibbs.

"That, erm they should be followed," muttered McGee, "unless they're wrong," he added not realizing he had spoken the words.

Gibbs moved towards the young man and started to turn him to the side, intent on delivering three swift spanks to the already paddled butt. What he had not expected was Abby to throw herself into the way, pushing Tim behind her to protect him from the reprimand.

"No Gibbs," she shouted, "don't you dare," she added, crossing her arms and staring him down.

"Abby!" he stormed, "unless you want the same, I suggest you move out of my way," he threatened.

"Just try me," she replied, still just as resolute in defence of Tim. "I thought that when the old Gibbs came back that all would be good, you would be tough but fair."

"Abby move," Gibbs demanded through gritted teeth.

"No not until you listen," she stated, "we were wrong about the old Gibbs being back, the old Gibbs might have got angry at all of us but he used to be fair, he'd listen, not just jump to his own conclusions. You've just got the anger part back and not the rest, perhaps you should regrow that moustache!" She finished this little tirade with an emphatic nod, and then seeing the fierce look on his face she gulped heavily.

Tim simply stood there frozen to the spot. His transgression seemed long forgotten now in his Boss's eyes. Now Gibbs and Abby were in the most intense staring match going. He stood poised to drag Abby away in the event that Gibbs pounced on her.

Gibbs could feel his blood boiling. A red mist was starting to descend before his eyes and he knew that if it came down totally he would end up strangling Abby. Taking the last modicum of control he had he dropped his stare first turned and left the lab. Not waiting for the elevator he took the stairs two at a time. He had forgotten what he had gone down there for in the first place. He just needed coffee.

Meanwhile back in the lab Tim and Abby were in shock. They had expected a nuclear type explosion but instead stood in a quiet and eerie calm.

In an attempt to break the silence with mote calming noise Abby ramped up the volume on her stereo. Tim felt as if his ear drums were going to burst. "Abby," he shouted over the music, "Abby!"

Not turning it down, Abby shouted back, "McGee I just need to get back to work before Gibbs comes back," and then added, "I don't want to make things worse when he sees me not working. I think I have already pushed him too far."

"Do you want me to stay with you, just in case," asked Tim, himself worried that their Boss would come storming back in at any minute.

"No McGee you should go and save yourself," she replied, "but you should definitely look into the quieter one of the two women on that film, that footage shows her true temper, she is not as innocent as she tries to look."

"No Abs, I think I should just erase it like Gibbs told me," Tim started to make the adjustments on the phone to delete the film.

"No," stated Abby, "you were right it could be evidence."

"Gibbs doesn't think so," complained Tim, "he thinks I just filmed it because it was two girls fighting, he thinks Tony told me to do it. I just thought that if I captured the fight that others had already gone to break up it might be useful in looking at which of the two potential suspects we had might have killed the marine."

"You need to tell him Timmy," encouraged Abby.

"Are you mad Abs, trying to explain technology and its uses in modern investigations is challenging enough at the best of times, doing it when he is already feeling homicidal is tantamount to committing suicide."

Elsewhere in the grounds of the navy yard Gibbs had downed his first coffee and still not feeling a great deal better he ordered up a second. Was he wrong? He didn't think so; the guys were messing around. Had he listened to them? He thought he had.

Moustache or no moustache he could not see that he was any different.


	3. Chapter 3

The caffeine in Gibbs' system only went a small way to restoring calm and clarity. There was a job to do and he would have to get to grips with the team after it was over; just as long as they didn't push him any further; just as long as he could figure out what the hell was going on with them.

He was sure that it hadn't been like this before. Sure he'd had problems but most day to day ones would be fixed by a slap to the head, extra desk duties, and only occasionally by taking the wayward agent to task and delivery a swift sharp lesson that would make them think twice before making the same mistake but leave their personal work record intact.

He knew his memory still had gaps in it but he was pretty sure he was doing everything like he had done before. So he got the odd name wrong now and then but he was pretty sure the rest he recalled well enough. Perhaps he was a bit rusty but that would soon wear off, but the team had changed. He knew DiNozzo had always been a joker but he remembered that he always used to get the job done, didn't he? Surely he would not have left the team alone in the hands of a fool, would he? Why was he now so distant why had he reacted to the punishment like never before?

Then there was Tim, always obsessed by his gadgets and technology but always keen to avoid being in trouble with the boss. Just when had he started going along with Tony's antics? When had he started goofing off? When had he stopped respecting the chain of command? When had he decided he could chose which orders to follow and which not to?

Then there was Ducky, the girls even Palmer. Ducky was snapping at him, always just remaining on the side of being civil but with an iciness that had never before been in their friendship. Had he remembered their relationship incorrectly? He seemed to think that Ducky used to be a good friend, a confidant., someone to turn to in order to seek advice. The girls, in particular Abby, were bringing their own brand of problems to the party. He'd known Abby the longest; he had championed her quirkiness, praised her intelligence and rewarded her hard work with Cafpow after Cafpow. Now she was defending McGee and disrespecting him. Even Jimmy was acting strangely and disappearing off at weird times.

His thoughts and concerns over the MCRT would have to take a backseat for now though. He had just had a call from Ziva to say that she and Tony were bringing in the realtor (her husband in tow) for questioning. He collected the interview file and made his way down to the interrogation room.

Ziva and Tony waited behind the glass, watching the interrogation and taking notes. When Ducky joined them they were a little surprised but knew he had been trying to put his new forensic psychology prowess to good use.

"Hiya Ducky," greeted Tony, "whatchya after?"

"Afternoon Anthony dear boy, I thought I would join you to observe if you are alright with that," he replied making his way over to the mirrored window.

"Sure thing," said Tony, "so who are you here to observe and report on; Gibbs or the suspect?"

"Still upset about the spanking earlier are you Anthony?" asked Ducky knowing that the encounter had certainly unsettled the lad.

"No," retorted Tony just that little bit too hastily, "just wondered if you had noticed anything different in the Boss."

"Since he lost the moustache," enquired Ducky, "or since his rather unceremonious return from his Mexican hideaway?"

The question went unanswered by all in the room. It didn't really need one. All knew that the Boss wasn't quite the same. He was more abrupt than before, if that was even possible, he was generally angrier, and above all he seemed to have forgotten that the team was a family, had been closer than just co-workers. Before when he had punished he had done it fairly, he had listened, he had given them chance to accept their position on the point. Now he just punished. He had forgotten that they were more than just a team.

When Ducky rushed out of the room ten minutes later to interrupt Gibbs' interview both Ziva and Tony were left wondering how their boss was going to react to that. Did he spank Ducky too? That would be weird. The Doctor was older than Gibbs and a medical practitioner to boot, but if he didn't take it out on Ducky would he come after them. Perhaps they should have stopped Ducky; dragged him back, but it was too late and the Doctor had already marched into the interview and was heading back out of the door with a furious looking Gibbs.

The tone and nature of the exchange in the corridor spoke for itself. Gibbs was pissed! Ducky was not backing down though. This was a clash of minds, a clash of years of experience, a clash of knowledge bases. Ziva and Tony listened in awe through the crack in the door where it had not closed properly upon Ducky's hasty exit from the room moments earlier. Neither dared to move to close it. It would have diverted attention to them. Something which neither wanted. Whilst they both knew that eavesdropping on Gibbs was a bad move, they felt compelled to stand there at the door, holding their collective breath and waiting for the fall out on the other side.

Gibbs had his rules and one that they all knew was that you never interrupted him in an interview. This however meant that any new and vital information would never get to him whilst he was with the suspect. To that end over the years all of them had to break that rule but they sure as anything knew that if they were going to risk their backsides doing it, that the intel would have to be pretty damned amazing. Ducky however did not go bearing intel, he went bearing only his professional opinion of the suspect and of his belief in her innocence in the murder of the dead marine.

Gibbs was barely holding onto his temper as he spoke slowly and deliberately to the Doctor. Ducky could feel the hackles on his own neck rising as his professional opinion was being summarily shoved to the side in lieu of Gibbs' gut and demand that they all obey his infernal rules.

As the Doctor left the scene, chastised by their boss, Tony and Ziva could hear him muttering to himself. They only caught the odd word but between the use of the word imbecilic and pig-headed they got the gist. Tony picked up his cell-phone.

"Who are you calling Tony?" asked Ziva, somewhat puzzled.

"Palmer," came the reply, "let him know Ducky is coming back and that he is not in the best of moods."

However the phone in autopsy just rang to itself. Palmer was otherwise engaged with Agent Lee in the small storeroom just outside autopsy. Hanging up the unanswered call, Tong shrugged, "Guess he's gone missing again," and asked, "has he got some girl on the side that we know nothing about?"

Fortunately for Mr Palmer, Ducky was not heading to autopsy, instead he made his way swiftly and decidedly towards the bullpen. If Gibbs wouldn't listen to him then he would sort out the case himself. Corralling Tim as he moved along to where the suspects husband waited, he instructed him to film their little interchange.

When Gibbs returned to the bullpen Ducky had already succeeded in getting a confession. Tim had it all filmed and recorded for the courts. As far as they were concerned the case was closed and Gibbs should be happy. As he ordered cuffs to be placed on the murderer his features were still beset with anger.

Taking the camera from Tim, he watched the interchange between the Doctor and the suspect. Rather than being pleased, the red mist started to descend again.

Seeing the telltale signs of what was to come, Tim physically stepped further back from his boss and he could feel himself holding his breath in anticipation of the storm which was about to erupt.

Gibbs turned to face the junior agent, "you pleased with yourself on this hey McGee?" and then to Ducky, "you too Doctor?"

Ducky was the only one to respond, "yes Jethro, actually I am. You have a full confession straight from the mouth of the per…."

He didn't get to finish the word let alone go onto any explanation or story of times gone by. Gibbs exploded, "you think that is a confession Doctor Mallard?" and then to Tim, "you think that is evidence we can use in Court?" No response was forthcoming. The whole of the floor had stopped to watch this debacle unfold.

"Where on there did I see you let him know he was being recorded? Where on there did I see either of you give him his Miranda rights? What the hell were you thinking McGee? You are supposed to be the investigator here, did our earlier chat not make you even consider what you were doing with that damned phone just for a minute?" he ranted.

Stepping in to save the lad who was visibly shaken by the public onslaught, Ducky stepped forward, "Special Agent Gibbs," he shouted to be heard over the tirade that was ensuing, "this is not Agent McGee's fault; if you want to take this out on anyone you can take it out on me!"

Ignoring the protestations from the elderly Doctor, Gibbs maintained his fixed glare on the junior agent, his eyes burning into him like hot pokers, waiting for a response from the young man, but getting none.

"Get yourself to the conference room McGee," thundered Gibbs.

"He's not going anywhere," countermanded Ducky.

Now furious Gibbs turned on his old friend, "how dare you tell me when, where and how I reprimand my team Ducky, how dare you."

In the midst of all of this no-one had seen Tony slip off to the Directors office upstairs. Walking in without knocking, Jenny was about to call him on it when she saw the look in his eye.

"Sorry Director," he apologized, "we need your help in the bullpen and we need it quickly."


	4. Chapter 4

As Jenny descended the steps towards the bullpen, Tony only a few paces behind her, things were getting even more heated.

"Doctor Mallard this is MY team and I will deal with MY agents as I see fit," roared Gibbs, any chance of holding onto his temper now gone.

"Oh and what a fine job you are doing of that," retorted Ducky, "Abby is so frightened now that she is drowning her sorrows in ever louder music and Cafpow, Ziva is avoiding you where possible, Tim visibly flinched when you spoke to him and Tony has shut himself off from you."

"Enough," screamed Director Shepherd from the halfway point on the stairs, "Gentlemen my office now!" she demanded. Then more quietly, "Tim, Ziva why don't you and Tony also join us." It wasn't so much of a suggestion as an order, everyone listening knew it. Whilst the rest of the floor suddenly got very interested in the bits of paper on their desks lest they also be 'invited' to the Directors office, the MCRT all made their way into Jenny's office.

Sending Cynthia off on a long coffee break to spare her from the situation, Jenny took a deep breath and followed the team into her office, sitting herself down behind the desk whilst the assembled team all stood before it.

"Jen, don't get involved with this, its my team and I'll sort it out," warned Gibbs, not sure he could stand a verbal tongue lashing from the Director in front of the team he was having to re-mould.

"I already am involved Agent Gibbs," she responded, meeting his steely gaze with a good approximation of her own. Gibbs shot a look of pure death towards DiNozzo who he knew had gone running to get the Director.

"And for the record Agent Gibbs, this is MY team, MY office. I decide what to get involved in and you will refer to me as Director," her order sounding far more confident than she actually felt at this point in time as she faced the man who had trained her all of those years ago.

"This is bullcrap Madam Director," responded Gibbs using the term he knew she hated and ensuring he punctuated it well to emphasize the meaning behind it. "Since I have been away, everything I taught them all has fallen apart."

Opening his mouth to interject, Ducky was suddenly silenced by the Director with a raised hand as she maintained her glare on her lead agent.

"I'll have you know that after you ran away having thrown your toys out of the pram when you didn't get your way regarding the sinking of that ship, the team did a fine job." Jenny acknowledge to the rest of the assembled members.

She continued, "I'm not going to pretend that it was easy and that we all didn't make some mistakes along the way, but I am proud of how Tony handled it all. Their success and closure rate did not drop one percent."

"So if they were so damned good why are they making so many damned mistakes now?" questioned Gibbs.

Looking towards Tony, Jenny acknowledged Gibbs' observation and said, "Shouting out 'Chick Fight' was not the wisest idea, Tony knows that and I'm sure he won't repeat it again."

"Damned right he won't," growled Gibbs.

"And you could have achieved the same result by just talking to him Agent Gibbs," chided the Director, "I know its never been your favourite pastime but you should try it once in a while."

"That's not how I deal with my team, its not how they learn," answered Gibbs.

"I know your methods Gibbs, I have experienced them myself but in the past you would always listen to us. Explain. Not just beat our backsides until they glow crimson," she continued forgetting for the moment that the rest of them were in the room. Not that it wasn't something they had always suspected might have happened not had never been foolish enough to ask.

"I did listen Director," Gibbs' temper flaring again at the reprimand he was receiving.

"What, you asked Abby and Tim why they were playing the footage of the fight again? Or did you think I didn't know about that and the two hour coffee break you took to calm down after it."

"They were messing about, wasting time Director, end of," replied Gibbs.

"Actually Gibbs when I spoke to them to see why Abby was so upset they explained that they watched it whilst waiting for the DNA results because they had been talking about the two potential suspects and about who was the more likely to have used violence. The way they reacted to each other was important. Also whilst we are on the subject, why did you allow the two women to be anywhere near each other after they had been informed of what was happening with their fiancé," Jenny probed further, "were you hoping to see a fight and feathers fly to help you form your gut instinct?"

Gibbs wanted to respond but words which were never really his friend were now really failing him. In the quiet that ensued Jenny looked upon the rest of the assembled occupants in the room and addressing them all in turn she said, "Tony, enough has been said about the 'Chick Fight' comment I don't expect a repeat of it. You are better than that and more professional than that. I've seen you do a great job over the last 4 months leading this team, don't tarnish that now with silly comments."

"Yes Director," he replied, it won't happen again Ma'am."

"Tim, technology is great but think about how you are using it. Don't get so excited and blinkered by it that you forget all of your training. Now whose idea was it to film the fight?" she asked.

"Urm, it was mine Director, no one else told me to do it, Tony I'm sorry you got blamed for it," responded McGee.

"Well that's a start, and what about the rest of it's usage, you do realize that the little confession you and Doctor Mallard obtained out there is completely useless don't you?" Jenny continued.

"Director Shepherd, that is entirely my fault and responsibility not Agent McGee's," offered Ducky.

Ignoring the derisive snort from Gibbs, Jenny spoke, "the responsibility lies with you both Doctor. You should not be interfering in the investigation like that despite the fact that you thought that you were being ignored by Gibbs…. And you Tim knew far better than to carry out an interrogation like that. A rookie one week out of FLETC would know better."

"Sorry Director," mumbled Tim, "are we going to be able to salvage anything out of this?"

"I'll be handing it over to the FBI for them to try to do something Agent McGee, we'll just have to wait and see." She responded.

"Ziva," Jenny turned to the one in the room who had been up to the least amount of trouble, but aware of her goading of Tony thought she should at least say something.

"Yes Director," asked Ziva puzzled at what Jenny might have thought she had done wrong.

"Leave the sarcastic comments and jibes alone, they are not helping calm the situation that is already tense enough," informed Jenny.

Nodding her consent Ziva did not respond.

"Now will all of you leave Agent Gibbs and I to talk in private," she ordered.

The rest of the team filed out of the office and back down to their respective tasks. None really said anything other than Ziva who broke the mood a little with, "I wonder if she is going to make Gibbs regrow that moustache?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Way to go Madam Director," snarled Gibbs as the door closed behind his team, "how to destroy the chain of command in three easy steps!"

"Get your head out of your ass for just a minute Agent Gibbs," replied Jenny trying to remain calm and confident, "then just maybe you will be able to see that the one who is destroying the respect for the chain of command is yourself."

"What would you know Director, seems like only 5 minutes ago you were a Probie agent, only thing you know about the chain of command is how to climb your way to the top," snapped Gibbs; and then turned to walk out of the office.

"Where do you think you are going?" demanded Jenny, the slim grip on her own self control rapidly disappearing.

"To do my job, run my team and get the results that keep you in your fancy suits at the head of this agency," yelled Gibbs.

"Sit your self down now, Agent Gibbs," ordered Director Shepherd, "you do your job when I tell you to do it, you run your team under my overall command and as for fancy suits and being at the head of this agency, you are damned right they are fancy and I am at the top, but that came from my drive, hard work and ability to talk to people civilly and stand my ground when I have to against people like you."

Pulling one of the chairs out from around the conference table as roughly as he could without sending it flying across the room, Gibbs none the less complied with the order. Only the intense glare that he gave the Director as he did so gave away his true feelings.

Jenny began, trying to start what was going to be a very difficult conversation as calmly as she could. "Now shall we start again?"

"Little we need to say, that you haven't already yelled at me," stated Gibbs.

"Jethro, that's not how I want to end all of this, and deep down I am pretty sure that you are at a loss as to what is going on," stated Jenny; "you forget I have known you for a long time."

"Look Director, I can't talk this through now," said Gibbs calming a little as he realized that he was being a complete jackass, "I don't have the answers that you want, hell I don't have the answers that I want."

"Well how about we try and find them together, we used to be a good team you know," coaxed Jenny.

Scrubbing a hand across his face Gibbs asked, "I'm not getting out of here until we do, am I?"

"Why don't we start with the team and what you remember of them?" asked Jenny.

"What do you mean about what I remember?" he asked trying to hide the fact that there were still gaps in his memory.

"Come on Jethro, you and I both know that you still only recall the bare bones," she stated, "why don't you tell me what you feel about the team?"

"Argh Geez Jen, I don't do feelings, no gushy stuff, we are just a team," said Gibbs wondering what the hell Jenny was getting at.

"That's not how it used to be though," Jenny recalled, "you were all closer than that, much closer. They called you Papa Gibbs."

"Probably just Abby hey," asked Gibbs, only a faint recollection of the use of the name.

"No all of them," came the reply, "you and they were a family, an odd one granted, but you all needed one another."

"They've all got families Jen, they don't need me acting as surrogate father, doesn't sound like me either," reasoned Gibbs.

"Yeah that's true, but Tony only has his father and when have you ever seen him around, or hear Tony talk about seeing him or speaking to him," asked Jen, "more to the point you recall Tony having the plague?" Gibbs nodded his recall. "Well can you recall his father even ringing up to see how his son was?"

"Guess not," said Gibbs struggling to recall the entire incident.

"Do you remember who sat with him at the hospital and then at his home each night after the case was over and ensured he took his meds?" pushed Jenny.

"I'm guessing Ducky?" he replied.

"No Jethro, it was you and do you know why?" she quizzed him, but did not wait for the answer that she could see he could not recall "because the young man sees you as his father he never had and you see just a little of the younger Gibbs in him."

"Maybe I was just doing what any good CO would do?" he challenged her statement.

"A CO would visit, check on the patient and leave, but you stayed in a chair that gave you a stiff neck and a sore head to go with it for a month Jethro,"Jenny reminded him.

"Guess maybe I did see something in him," accepted Gibbs, "but that does not explain the situation now. Some father son relationship that is."

"Only because you have forgotten how it used to be," stated Jenny gently, seeing the hurt and confused look on Gibbs' face.

"I recall how I used to deal with his infractions," stated Gibbs, "I tried to do the same in this case, but it didn't work. What did I do differently?"

"You acted as his Boss," answered Jenny, "and not as his father."

"So you are saying he is sulking because I didn't call him son? I tried to show him all was forgiven and he shrugged me away," complained Gibbs.

"You had accused him of something he hadn't done, didn't give him a chance to explain or talk anything through," stated Jenny, "you recalled the punishment but not the way in which to do it. All you did was beat him for what he did."

"He accepted it all though," argued Gibbs casting his mind back to the scene in the conference room.

"No Jethro, all Tony did was shout 'Chick Fight' and point, you accused him of directing McGee to film," Jenny reminded him of the incident, "have you watched the film that McGee took? It shows quite clearly that Tony did nothing more than that, McGee had already spotted the fight before Tony shouted and had already switched the camera on to record."

"Why didn't he tell me?" asked Gibbs stunned at the revelation.

"Why didn't you ask him?" came the simple reply.

"Ok so I might have screwed the pooch with DiNozzo but McGee and Dr Mallard screwed the case, should I have just let that go?" asked Gibbs.

"No, but you should have remembered that Tim has always had a need to make you feel proud of him. His actions come from never having a father who would tell him that he was proud. He grabs his gadgets as a safety blanket, he's still learning Jethro, he might need a suitable punishment for some of his actions but calling him on them in the middle of the bullpen is just going to destroy whatever confidence in himself that he has mustered over the years."

"I'm guessing I made similar mistakes with Ziva and Abby too," asked Gibbs resigned to the fact that the only person who the Director seemed to hold responsible for the atmosphere within the team was him. Maybe she was right, the only one who had gone through a dramatic change was him.

Smiling gently and nodding slightly Jenny replied, "We know that you need some time to get back on your game, regain all of your memories. Whether you believe it or not the team wants to help you."

Seeing that she was finally getting somewhere with him she continued with her advice, "Give yourself time Jethro. Give them some time."

"What if I have screwed it for good?" he asked.

"They're family, they will forgive you, but perhaps you should work on gaining their respect back. When I re-engaged you as SSA on the team I didn't expect you to announce your return by taking out an announcement in the Navy Times but I thought you would at least talk to Tony and Tim before demoting them," advised Jenny.

"I didn't demote them, Tony has always been my SFA," Gibbs looked puzzled.

"Yes but he was the SSA after you left and Tim was his SFA, your return took that away from them both," explained the Director, "without any comment from yourself and before I could speak to them."

"Not sure I can put this right," declared Gibbs, "perhaps I should go back to Mexico, I can't screw up a beach and beers."

"Have you also forgotten that Marines never run away from a fight?" goaded Jenny, a slight laugh in her voice.

"No Ma'am," Gibbs smiled back, "guess I'm just tired and out of fighting shape at the moment."

"Well at least you got rid of that silly moustache," she added.

"What is with everyone and the moustache?" he asked and then added, "any advice on how I square things with Ducky?"

"Not going to do all of the hard work for you Agent Gibbs, that you will have to sort for yourself," she advised, "but talking to him over a pot of tea might be a start."

Nodding and accepting the advice Jethro stood from his seat. "Guess I have a lot to sort out, if you will let me get on with it Director?... and about what I said earlier to you…."

Jenny raised her eyebrows wondering where he was going with this.

"I'm sorry," he stated.

"You breaking your own rules now too?" she asked.

"Yup, guess I might have to do a bit of that," he replied.

"It better not happen again Agent Gibbs. You are not the only one who doesn't always believe in paper punishments,: warned Jenny.

"You wouldn't, would you," he asked a little nervous that his former Probie might just do that.

"No not me Jethro," she smiled wickedly, "but you forget that I have the number for a little cantina down ol' mexico way and I'm sure Mike Franks would like a visit."

Choosing not to question her ability or promise to do just that he bid her good afternoon and with that headed out of the Directors office and back down to the bullpen.


	6. Chapter 6

As the elevator reached the floor of the bullpen he could feel the eyes of those others who worked in there raising slightly from their desks and terminals to sneak a peek almost as if to determine whether he was showing any evidence of having murdered their Director. He felt for the first time in a long time, uncertain and unsure of himself. He felt alone. Sighing he made his way back to his desk, isolated in an empty bullpen. The rest of the team had clearly decided to make themselves scarce.

He knew he had a lot to do to try to put this all right but was not sure he had the strength. Sure, he had screwed up relationships in the past but he had usually been able to sort them out with the help of his friends…. His family. Now he had alienated every single one of them. What if they were too frightened to work with him, what if his swiss cheese memory wouldn't let him remember the way things used to be. Who could he turn to for help?

As he sat there brooding over this disaster of a day he spotted the bag containing the $78,400 of gold that Ziva had been logging and was supposed to take down to the evidence room and bag ready for the FBI to pick up with the rest of the evidence in the case which was being transferred to them. Whilst his first thought was to reel Ziva in for the breech in procedure; he suddenly recalled that Ziva had been about to take it down to evidence when they had all got hauled into the Directors office.

Desperate for something to do to take his mind off the surreptitious looks he was still getting from the other occupants of the big orange room, Gibbs rounded the desk and walked across to Ziva's, picking up the bag he decided to head to evidence with it for her.

As he re-entered the elevator a thought struck him. He needed some good karma, and the two fiancés from the case needed their stolen cash back. Each had lost $30,000 and they guessed that the dead guy had put the rest together himself. He stopped the elevator and quickly altered the evidence log. Taking out a couple of spare evidence bags from his jacket pocket he separated out two amounts of $30,000.

Then he continued to evidence, stopping off at the post room first.

"Hey Steve," he got the attention of the mailroom guy. "Any chance you could do me a favour?"

"Sure Agent Gibbs, anything to help," replied Steve always keen to help and always a little scared of not assisting Gibbs.

"Need you to take these bags to these addresses pronto," said Gibbs, quickly scribbling down the details of the two fiancés.

"No problem Sir, I'll go right away," affirmed Steve, "You need a receipt for any of this?"

"Nah, all already taken care of," lied Gibbs and nodded his thanks and left the room.

Having then deposited the rest of the gold into evidence under the altered log, he rode back up in the elevator; proud that at least he had helped make the lives of two people better today and in the long run it would save a hell of a lot of paperwork.

As the elevator doors opened he was almost knocked flat by Ziva, in a panic and totally forgetting about rule 62 _leave room for someone exiting the elevator,_ barged her way in.

"I've screwed up," she began.

"Yeah you almost made me spill my coffee," he replied.

Not noticing the air of levity Gibbs was currently exhibiting and desperate to get the whole damn confession out in one go before she bottled it completely, Ziva explained, "when Tony and I went to pick up Jodie I left Finns bag of gold on my desk, I know I should have taken it to evidence but we were focusing on…"

Gibbs interrupted her, handing her the inventory record. She quickly scanned down noticing indeed that Gibbs had put it into evidence but only recorded $18,400 of it.

Shooting him a questioning look, Ziva hardly dared ask where the rest was. Gibbs on seeing the puzzlement smiled and explained he had given it back to those from whom it had been taken.

Shocked at the sudden change in her bosses attitude Ziva had opened her mouth and had spoken before she could stop herself, "you wouldn't be getting soft would you…. of course not you shaved your moustache."

Before Gibbs could even react to that, Tim hurried over to them to announce that his research had led to another woman coming forward as one of the fiancés of the dead marine.

Gibbs could feel beads of sweat forming on his brow as he held out his hand to inspect the engagement ring that the woman held out for him to inspect. He felt a welling up of panic inside of him; this was not a feeling he'd had for sometime. It only got worse as the lady explained how Finn had asked her to loan him money.

How could he have been so stupid, Gibbs chastised himself? He'd assumed there were only two wives, why the hell hadn't he double-checked. He'd have come down on the team if they had done it; but it was he who had screwed up and how on earth was he going to sort this one out.

Tony had already gone off to some doctors appointment or another, Ducky was unlikely to help him out until the two had a chance to sit down and sort their problems (well his problem) out. Tim and Ziva were both too inexperienced to help with this mess and he didn't want to drag them down with him and Abby had yet to forgive him. The Director would be on the phone to Mike Franks the moment he confessed all to her. He was screwed.


	7. Chapter 7

Gibbs arrived home, tired, weary just wishing the week was over and that he could immerse himself in his basement with his boat and a bottle of bourbon. He had, in one day, pissed off everyone he knew and a lot of other people besides. Even for him that was some sort of a record and not one he was particularly proud of despite what others might think and the Director had told him.

Three hours earlier he had gone to her office and this time he didn't just barge in; he knocked. No point acting all bullish when he felt anything but that. He hadn't felt like that from the moment he had phoned her to tell her about the disaster with the money he had given back directly to the two fiancés; that was before the third one had turned up. It got worse when the letters seized from the newly demoted Private out in Iraq who had been posting love letters to the fiancés on behalf of the dead marine, had turned up. They had revealed another two fiancés, all of whom had lost significant amounts of their savings, far more than the $18,400, which was left to compensate them from.

Jenny had then spent a significant amount of time appeasing SecNav, the FBI who had taken over the case, and several lawyers acting on behalf of the out of pocket fiancés. Lots of apologies on behalf of the agency and calling in every favour she could find with the Marine Corps had meant that she had been able to access the dead marines death in service benefits and apportion them between the remaining widowed fiancés. Now she just had to deal with Gibbs.

"Come in Special Agent Gibbs," she commanded upon hearing his knock.

Gibbs strode into the room closing the door silently behind him and planting himself front and centre in before her desk.

"Guessing you're gonna need to make that call to the cantina down ol' Mexico way Director," he began, hoping to be able to lighten the air just a little.

Jenny didn't laugh. "Oh I think its gone way beyond that, don't you Agent Gibbs?"

Pausing for just a few seconds to gather himself together he answered, "Yes Director, I've screwed up. I thought I was helping, I thought I was doing the right thing and I broke my own rules about double-checking and taking things for granted. Guess I have been doing that a lot since I came back."

"You need to add in the 7 rules about lawyers too Agent Gibbs," added the Director. "For a man who does anything to avoid involving them you sure seem to have pissed off a whole load of them today."

"Yes Director, sorry ma'am," replied Gibbs unusually acceding to her old requests that he respect and recognize her position within the agency. More unusually he was apologizing to boot.

Despite the fact that his out of character demeanor and acceptance of his failings had thrown Jenny for a bit of a loop, she rallied well to the shock and certainly came back with the verbal reprimand which was the very least Gibbs knew he deserved.

Now finally released from his severe carpeting, he arrived home. Not that it really felt like that. Something was missing from it. Flashbacks, small snippets of memories from times long passed came to mind. It was not the first time he had got on the wrong side of his CO but in the past he had come home to Shannon, the ex-wives and latterly the team. No not the team, his family.

He slumped down on his old sofa, didn't even bother switching on the lights and held his head in his hands. Perhaps he should have stayed on sabbatical. Who was he kidding he chided himself, he had retired in a fit of pique and then had realized he had got it wrong but was two stubborn and pig-headed to admit it to himself at the time let alone the rest of them. He had come back because somewhere deep down in a place he didn't really like to explore he knew he needed to be with people; his people; his family.

"So aren't you going to offer me a drink Jethro?" came a voice from the dark doorway to his kitchen.

Looking up, Gibbs strained his eyes against the murky light. "Who told you I'd be here and wanting visitors?"

"Oh a little birdie told me that you would be feeling like a right heel and I couldn't miss a chance to witness that," came the response, with a slight chuckle as he moved closer opening a bottle of beer and passing it to Gibbs.

"Tobias, I'm not sure I'm up to ridicule just at the moment," responded Gibbs still holding out his hand and willingly accepting the bottle.

"Now who said I was here to torment you with your momentous screw up Jethro?" joked Fornell pretending to be hurt by the accusation, "I just made too much Spaghetti alla Norma and didn't want to see it go to waste."

"You cooked?" asked Gibbs surprised at where this conversation was going.

"Of course I did, I'm Italian, we all cook beautifully," responded Fornell, "now get your ass over to the table Marine and get eating, I'll get the garlic bread out of the oven."

As the two men settled down over the meal Gibbs remained quiet. Not that it was unusual for him not to say a lot but this kind of quiet was not simply down to the fact that he was tucking into the spaghetti with gusto.

"So what did the Director do to you?" asked Fornell hoping to deal with the elephant that was clearly in the room.

"Lets just say that I am not going to be spending too much time with my boat for the next few months," answered Gibbs.

"You got extra duties?" coaxed Fornell wanting Gibbs to open up more.

"Yep and then some," came the reply, "3 months of on call duty for depositions, guard detail and prisoner movement, and then in my spare time cold case review and a 2 week reduction in pay."

"Ouch, that's gotta hurt," commented Tobias.

"Could have been worse I guess," shrugged Gibbs.

Raising the third beer to Gibbs, Fornell commented "Amen to that."

Both men sat for a while longer in companionable silence, until Fornell asked the question, "So where is the team?"

"I managed to push them away too," Gibbs' voice sounded strained.

"So when you screw up you leave no stone unturned," stated Fornell and then asked, "so what are we going to do to sort this god damned mess out?"

"You don't have to, who put you up to this?" asked Gibbs slightly alarmed at the thought that he was going to be made to spill his innermost demons out to Fornell but also worried that he might alienate the only friend he seemed to have left.

"No one put me up to this," responded Fornell, "but a blind man on a desert island with no means of communication could tell you need help before you screw this up more than you already have."

"So you gonna tell me where to start?" asked Gibbs.

"No that's up to you, I'm just here to make sure that you don't kill anyone," joked Fornell, "or at least to help you hide the bodies."

"They are more likely to kill me," commented Gibbs with a rueful smile. "I'm sure DiNozzo is already working on a plan."

"Ah Tony doesn't want to kill you Jethro, he still cares a great deal about you and well he just can't deal with you and everything else that's….." Fornell paused knowing he had nearly given away Tony's undercover op.

"What else is going on with him at the moment asked Gibbs," confused and wondering what Tobias knew that he didn't. He knew that the kid was clearly up to something, disappearing at all times, looking like he hadn't slept in ages, always hungry as if he hadn't had time to eat. "What do you know about my agent that I don't?"

"Don't worry about him, I'm keeping an eye on him, but I'd advise you lay off some of your more personal punishments with him at the moment," advised Fornell.

"He talks to you about how I, erm, deal with the team?" questioned Gibbs, astounded that Tony had confided in Tobias.

"It's not been hard to work it out over the years Gibbs," joked Fornell, "seeing him wince as he has sat down a time or two after a little visit with you to the conference room. Didn't take much to work it out, and yeah he and I do talk, quite a lot since you went to Mexico actually."

"So what do I do with them?" asked Gibbs desperate and concerned that he really didn't know what was going on with the guys that he worked with, that he cared about.

"You give 'em time Probie and you earn their respect and trust back," came a familiar voice from the front door, "so you gonna help me in with the bags and open me a beer."

"Mike," stuttered Gibbs surprised to see his old boss on his doorstep, and then panicking slightly, "did Jenny call you?"


	8. Chapter 8

"Well there I was settling into a fine meal and another cervesa at the cantina when I get a call about my old Probie from that Lady Director of yours," answered Mike sitting himself down on the now vacated sofa whilst Gibbs lugged in his suitcase from the porch.

Fornell, rather curious at this sudden development, couldn't help but wonder what exactly Jenny Shepherd had sent this man to do but he was intrigued by the fact that Gibbs had jumped up to help the guy without so much as a moan and had slightly paled at his arrival.

Fornell handed Mike a cold beer from the fridge and introduced himself, "Hi we've not met, Tobias Fornell, FBI," he stated.

"Mike Franks," came the slightly gruff and to the point response and then the question, "has Probie got himself into even more trouble since I've been in the air?" thinking that the bureau was there to interview or possibly arrest his protégé.

"I guess that depends when the call was put through to you Mike," answered Gibbs having put the case into the downstairs guest room and having now turned back into the living room.

"Geez Probie, what you done so bad that you have the FBI down on you?" he said looking for any signs that the younger man might be hiding anything from him.

"Tobias is a friend," explained Gibbs "he just came over to see if I was alright."

"You told him about your little stunt with the gold and them there gals?" asked Mike. Gibbs breathed a slight sigh of relief that he would not have to break more bad news to his old boss.

"Yes Mike," he replied his head hanging in shame and just a little embarrassment.

Seeing the way the interaction was going between the two and the strange dynamic that clearly existed between former Boss and former Probie , Fornell started to feel a little uncomfortable in staying and as much as he was intrigued he realized his friend was going to need some privacy.

Interrupting the moment of silence that had followed Gibbs' last answer Toby coughed and stated, "Well Gibbs its getting late and I better be on my way, I'll call back for my dishes and car in the morning."

"Thanks Tobias," nodded Gibbs grateful that his friend was not going to witness whatever crazy plan Mike had to 'help' him get back on track. With that Fornell picked up his coat and phone and said his goodbyes and walked out into the night air to call a cab, leaving the two men in the uncomfortable silence of the living room.

Gibbs was left standing in front of his former mentor much like a small child called to account for his actions by his parents. It was not that Gibbs saw Mike as his father but more as an older brother who would have no issue with taking his younger sibling to task over his transgressions. Even though many years had passed since both men had last been in this position it still had its desired effect.

"So Jethro," drawled Mike leaning back, crossing his legs and stretching his arms along the back of the sofa and taking in the man before him, "you gonna start explaining to me why Jenny Shepherd thinks it has all got so bad she needs to call in the big guns to sort this out?"

"She didn't need to Mike, she's dealt with it," answered Gibbs, a little belligerence creeping into his response. "She's already doled out a punishment and I don't need your help to feel worse."

"Watch your lip there Probie," warned Mike taking on the tone he had used on frequent occasions in the past with the younger man, "I might now be an old man but I can still call you to account if I need to," he warned.

Not getting a response to his warning, Franks sighed heavily, "shall we start again Probie?"

Pointing to the chair opposite him he directed, "why don't you sit your sorry ass down and tell me what is going on here. You've only been back a short time and I hear that you have already managed to get your head stuck so far up your backside that Jenny thinks you might need my help in extracting it fully."

Hearing the warning tone in Mikes voice triggered memories of the first time Mike had bade him to take a seat and start explaining his actions….

They had been sent to work with a joint task force; DEA, ATF and NIS out in the New Orleans office. As Probies on the team Gibbs and Pride had been sent out to the scene to draw up sketches and get photos of the area around the explosion. DEA and ATF were also out there helping maintain the perimeter and collating the evidence. Both men had been warned that they would be under the direct supervision of DEA Agent Gonzalez, a rather small man but with an arrogant streak to rival anyone. He had already riled some of the senior NIS agents on the team and Gibbs and Pride thought the guy was an idiot and had been overheard by Mike saying as much.

"Idiot or not," he warned them, "you'll follow his orders, won't have our probationary agents showing us up and causing more grief than we need right now, understand?"

"Yes Boss," both had hastily replied seeing that Mike was in no mood to hear them out on their thoughts about the competencies of the other sister agencies.

And so they had found themselves in the field sketching and shooting the whole area and staying away where they could from Gonzalez. At first it had been fine, the two worked well together at their tasks. As they took details of the scene closest to the perimeter they were suddenly distracted by a "yoohoo" called from the other side of the perimeter wire. Looking up the two probies were met with the site of two stunning young women waving at them and beckoning them over.

Succumbing to the charms of the ladies, the two had made their way over.

"How can we be of assistance ladies," asked Pride oozing all of the southern charm he could muster up in an attempt to impress them.

"Well aren't you a darling," answered the blonde fluttering her eyes at him as she did so. "we're hoping you fine gentlemen might be our knights in shining armour and help us retrieve our vehicle from within you cordon."

"We'll ma'am we aren't supposed to let anyone through you see," and then seeing the look of disappointment on both of the ladies faces Gibbs added, "but for you ladies I'm sure we can ask the man in charge if he'll make an exception. Wouldn't want you ladies stranded out here now would we."

With that Gibbs had left Pride chatting to both women whilst he went off to find Gonzalez. The man had proven to be the jackass Gibbs thought he was and had practically ignored Gibbs, made worse by the fact that when he had answered to say no he had belittled NIS and their agents and added a few other sarcastic comments about why they were even needed.

Gibbs had come away from the encounter barely holding his temper, cursing the man and the fact that he, a probationary agent of two months standing, could clearly see that they didn't require such a wide perimeter when it was obvious where the explosion had occurred and where the rest of the cache of drugs and weapons had already been recovered.

By the time he was back at the cordon he had convinced himself even more that the arrogant DEA agent was just wrong. Ignoring the clear instructions to not let anyone in, he moved the tape to one side and said, "Ladies allow me to escort you to your vehicle."

With Pride in tow the group covered the 100 yards to the car park where the vehicle was situated in no time. Falling for the charms of the ladies further the two agents had even helped them carry a couple of boxes of files from their real estate office to the car so that they could continue their work at home until the cordon was lifted completely and they could return to the office to work.

They waved off the ladies with promises they would try and meet up with a drink before they left and got back to the task they had been set. When Franks et al had arrived at the scene a little later to stand them down for the night, the two happily made their way to the nearest local bar, ordered some good food a couple of beers and settled in for the night.

Only half way through their first drink, Gonzalez had turned up. Gibbs could almost see the steam coming from his ears. Marching right over to the pair he started shouting and screaming, seemingly not caring who was listening.

"Which one of you two oafs allowed those women onto the crime scene despite my express order?" he began.

Pride was a little taken aback by all of this thinking that permission had been granted.

Gonzalez continued, "did either of you begin to question the wisdom of your actions or don't NIS do wisdom?" he snarled.

Both agents could feel their blood starting to boil and before anyone could take control of the situation Pride had stepped forward muttering through gritted teeth, "Why you arrogant son of a bitch." With that he delivered a stinging punch straight onto Gonzalez's nose.

Seconds later an almighty bar fight had broken out, NIS versus DEA. It seemed that Gonzalez had not arrived alone to the party. The two NIS probationary agents held their own, helped to an extent by Gibbs' marine training. However out numbered 3 to 1 as they were and with the bar owner calling the local PD they soon found themselves in the back of a police transport vehicle, cuffed and nursing their own cuts, bruises and bloody noses.

As the two sat there and waited, unable to get themselves out of this mess, the doors to the vehicle opened and there stood Mike Franks, face like thunder and roaring at them to get their sorry asses out of the vehicle and into his car.

In silence he had driven them back to the motel they were staying in and motioned for the pair to sit themselves down and start talking.

It seemed that what had got the DEA agent so riled was not just the fact that his orders had been disobeyed but also that he had failed to share with the other agencies the intel that the drug runners used the cover of local realtors to hide money and shift the goods. Pride and Gibbs hadn't known this when they had helped the two women to the car with the records of all of their illegal transactions. When Mike had finished explaining what they had done to the pair of them they had both felt sick, when they had been made to explain their actions and had been shown the error of their ways they felt worse but nothing would compare to how sore their backsides had been after Mike had taken his belt to them, lecturing them as he did so…..

Breaking out of this little reverie and shivering at the recollection, Gibbs did as he was told, sat down and waited for the onslaught.


	9. Chapter 9

"So Probie what were you just thinking about?" asked Mike , seeing the look that had washed over his protégés face, at being told to sit down.

"Nothing much," muttered Gibbs, embarrassed by the memory of those earlier days and the trouble he had caused his boss; also and not wanting to give Mike any ideas.

"Well seems to me as that's not much of an answer Probie," Mike stated not accepting the mumbled response.

"Look please Boss, I don't feel like talking right now," begged Gibbs, "I'm tired, I'm not in the mood, I can't do this now."

"You know we are going to have to talk about it though don't you," responded Mike, his tone easing a bit as he could see the weariness in the man in front of him.

"Sure Mike, but now I just need some time to process everything that's happened," agreed Gibbs, "look the spare rooms yours and there are sheets in the closet in there." With that he stood and was about to make his way down to the basement, to the comfort of his boat and his bourbon.

"Where'd you think you are going Probie?" questioned Mike seeing the direction the younger man was heading in.

"Er, the basement Boss," said Gibbs a little unsure of where this conversation was now heading.

"I'm only agreeing to put this conversation on hold 'cos you said you were real tired and needed to process what was going on in that thick skull of yours," warned Mike, "It was not so you could get down to that damn boat and wash your thoughts and actions away in Bourbon and saw dust. I suggest if you are that tired you get yourself to bed, not fall asleep under your boat or on this old sofa, so that when you awake in the morning your mood and your attitude will be better and me and you can resume with a civil and polite conversation about what's been going on since you left me in Mexico."

"You're sending me to bed?" asked Gibbs somewhat astonished, "Mike it's only 10pm, I'm not a child."

"No you're not, but you've not been acting like the man your daddy, the Corps and me helped raise and mould either," answered Mike, "I would suggest you start doing as you are told and the quicker you do the quicker I can help you sort this mess of yours out."

Gibbs had no response to that. Mike was right he was tired and he would probably have fallen asleep under the boat given the chance to disappear to the basement. What Mike had said about his Dad and the Corps had hit home too. His old man had been a stickler as far as respect, good manners and owning your own mistakes was concerned. His dad wouldn't have tolerated what was going on now, nor would the Corps and it seemed that Mike certainly wasn't about to start. Somewhat dejectedly he made his way upstairs into the room that he hardly ever used and certainly hadn't since he'd returned from Mexico. It had held too many reminders of Shannon and Kelly.

As he laid his head on the pillow, a lone tear trickled down his tired and weary face. "Sorry girls, I've let you down too," and with that he fell asleep holding the picture of the two of them that he had taken on their last fishing trip to the sea, tears still falling.

An hour later Mike peered into to the bedroom, Gibbs was asleep. It was a fitful sleep but at least he was getting a little rest. The moonlight shone in through the window where Gibbs hadn't bothered to pull the drapes too and glinted off of the glass on the frame Gibbs clung to like a drowning man with a life-raft.

Getting a little closer and taking care not to wake the Probie, Mike gently eased the frame from where it was nestled rather uncomfortably under Gibbs chin. Turning it to him to look at the picture he saw the laughing faces of Shannon and Kelly beaming back at him. "Aw hell Probie, I should'a seen this coming in Mexico, I let you down boy, won't happen again," he promised.

Laying the frame back onto the bed at the side of the sleeping younger man, Mike covered his friend in a blanket from the armchair in the room and carefully made his way quietly out of the room and back down the stairs. Grabbing himself another beer he picked up the phone and dialed the Director.

Reaching over to pick up the phone from her night table Jenny could see that Gibbs landline was calling her. Still half asleep she picked up the phone wondering what it was that had happened at this time of night.

"Jethro?" she answered.

"No Mike Franks, Director Shepherd," answered the gravelly voice on the other end of the line.

"Is he ok, you haven't killed him have you?" she asked slightly worried at what she had unleashed when she made that earlier call to Mexico.

"Relax Director he's sleeping" laughed Mike.

"How did you get him to do that?" asked Jenny curious as to whether there was a technique she could use with Gibbs in the future.

"Gave him no other real choice," answered Mike, "but I'm not ringing to swap night time routines for your agents with you, I need you to give me until next Monday with him before you start with the punishment you have planned."

"Sure I guess we can sort that," she agreed.

"And I'm gonna need to be able to call on your other agents and staff too," he continued.

"You will leave me someone to run the agency with won't you?" she asked.

"Sure thing Jenny, now can I start with DiNozzo?" he enquired.

"Ah that will be a bit more tricky," she hesitated, "Tony's involved in something for me."

"Gibbs know that?" queried Mike.

"No, it was something that started whilst he was away and I don't want him involved in it yet, he has too much else to deal with Mike."

"He ain't gonna like that when he finds out Director," commented Mike.

"We'll deal with that when we have to Mike, he is not to know yet understand?" she ordered.

"Yes Ma'am," drawled Mike, "well I'd better start with McGee then. Can you have him come over to the house tomorrow around 1300, tell him to bring those cold case files you have Probie doing as punishment detail and one of those laptop do-dahs."

"Sure Mike, I will, can I go back to sleep myself now?" she asked.

"Sure thing sweetheart, sweet dreams," he chuckled.

Putting the phone back onto the nightstand Jenny worried about what she had created by bringing Mike over. She'd cope with the weird late night conversations with the gruff old dinosaur as long as he could sort Gibbs out.


	10. Chapter 10

Next morning when Gibbs awoke to the gentle shaking provided by none other than his former Boss and the smell of coffee and stale tobacco, it took him a few moments to work out where the heck he was.

"Rise and shine Probie," called out Mike, seeing the eyes of the previously snoring agent start to open and focus on his surroundings. "Me and you have a long day ahead of us so I expect you to get yourself up and showered whilst I fix breakfast."

"Just coffee will be fine Mike," yawned Gibbs stretching as he did so.

"Did it sound like I was giving you a choice of menu Probie," asked Mike, "you are gonna eat a proper breakfast and we're gonna set you up proper for sorting this mess out."

Gibbs groaned, for just a moment he had forgotten why Mike was there, forgotten what he had done and how he had to now sort out his own mess. "What time is it Mike?" he asked.

"0530 and the sun is rising beautifully out there," chuckled Mike.

"Oh god, not in here Mike, give me just another hour," pleaded Gibbs and turned over so as to close his eyes and disappear back under the duvet.

Mike wasn't giving in that easy, picking up a brush off of the old oak dresser in the room, he marched back over to the bed, pulled back the covers and delivered three mild smacks to the backside that was presented before him.

"Geez Mike," exclaimed Gibbs, "what the hell do you think you are doing?"

Mike stood poised with the brush and laughed, "Aw Probie them were just love taps, now unless you get yourself up and moving there will be more and harder, I'm an old man and don't have enough time left on this earth to fix your problems and wait for you to have another hours sleep. Now UP!" he ordered.

""Alright alright, I'll be down in a minute," grumbled Gibbs.

"Make sure you do Probie," warned Mike, "I don't want to be coming to get you now." With that he placed the hard backed brush back down onto the dresser and left.

Gibbs showered and dressed in jeans and an old marine corps shirt. He wasn't a man for fancy clothes and instead chose the comfort of things he felt safe with. This was his go to t-shirt whenever he was feeling down. He made it down stairs and into the kitchen where Mike was just serving up a batch of banana pancakes and a jug of strong black coffee from the machine.

"So you decided to join us," welcomed Mike.

"Didn't really have a choice," muttered Gibbs rubbing his butt as he did so.

"What's, that Probie?" enquired Mike pretending he hadn't heard.

"Nothing Boss, just saying how good the pancakes look," replied Gibbs rapidly trying to divert Mike from his original answer.

"Then sit yourself down and enjoy," said Mike.

"You not eating?" enquired Gibbs wondering why he was being practically force fed when Mike was likely to do nothing more than smoke another cigarette and down a couple of cups of coffee.

"Time for that later," was all Mike responded and then disappeared out onto the back porch to imbibe in what would be his fourth cigarette of the morning. He hoped he had brought enough with him to get him through this mess his Probie had landed himself in.

Twenty minutes later and Gibbs was just clearing away the rest of the breakfast dishes. "I need to get ready to go into work Mike," he said.

"That's all fixed with Jenny," came the reply. "She's not expecting you until next Monday, that's when your punishment from her will start. Until then you are mine to sort out."

Gulping heavily at the thought that it was going to take so long with Mike, Gibbs ventured, "er Boss do you really need that long to urm you know fix this?" He really didn't think he could survive that many days of Mike making him talk through and accept his actions and then punish him for it. It had been a long time since he had been in this much trouble and although in this relationship he was still the Probie he knew that physically he was far from being one.

As if reading the thoughts of the younger man Mike chuckled, "you worried that there is going to be a whole lot of stuff I will take you to task over Jethro and that you aren't going to sit comfortably for a while?"

"Well kind of Boss," Gibbs responded embarrassed that his thoughts could still be so easily read by this man after all of these years.

"Probie, this has gone way beyond spanking you until you get your head on straight, even I don't think that's going to work with this one," explained Mike, "No me and you and at some point the rest of the guys are going to have to sit down and talk, nothing as simple as getting a good old butt whooping and then wiping the slate clean."

The thought of having to do that much talking almost had Gibbs begging for the old fashioned treatment but deep down he knew that he was going to have to do this.

"What happens if they won't talk to me," asked Gibbs nervously, "I did really screw this one up."

"Go sit down in the living room," ordered Mike, "lets take this one step at a time."

Sitting onto the sofa Gibbs once again felt like the youngster called to account for his actions. His subconscious action was to grab for a pillow and hug it to him for comfort. When Mike entered the room and saw this, he smiled to himself, he knew his Probie was at least ready to listen, he'd seen this sign before many many years ago.

"So lets start with you losing Shannon and Kelly," said Mike in a quiet and calm tone as he sat down opposite Gibbs.

"I don't understand, that's not the problem here, I don't want to discuss them, please Mike leave them out of it," he begged.

"No can do," answered Mike just as serenely as before, "I know you lost them a long time ago and all that, but your spin with Pin Pin Pula screwed up that head of yours and in the time since that I'm guessing it seems like only 4 months ago you lost them. Am I right?"

"I don't want to talk about them," repeated Gibbs getting both angry and emotional, "I don't see why you need me to talk about them."

"Because I think you are still grieving Probie, the process of accepting their loss has started all over again for you and, until you can accept that, you won't be able to accept the others into your life as you did before."

"That's a whole load of psycho-babble bullshit Mike," spat Gibbs, "who fed you that line hey? Jenny?"

"No Jethro, you are forgetting that I remember you going through this before," explained Mike, keeping his calm but struggling to do so, "You may have forgotten what you went through all those years ago but I sure as hell haven't forgotten. Do you think I enjoyed seeing you go through it then? Do you think I would put you through that again if I didn't know it was the only way to get you back onto the right track."

Gibbs didn't respond.

"Listen to me Probie, you will not be able to accept your team as family all the time you think that it is being disloyal to their memories," Mike continued. "I've seen you push away friends and ex-wives in the past, and although there were other reasons on top of the main one, the fact is that none of them could replace Shannon and Kelly."

Gibbs still didn't answer.

"But DiNozzo, McGee, Abby, Ziva…. Somehow they found a way into your heart and you found a way to let them in. They didn't replace Shannon and Kelly, they just became extra members of your family." Mike could see that his words were at least starting to hit home a little. "You trying to push them out of that space in there that they found is what is hurting them, its what's hurting you!"

Still no answer came, but instead tears began to pool at the corner of Gibbs eyes.

Mike pushing that bit further began again, "If you want to make this right again Probie then you gotta start grieving properly again and start to realize that both Shannon and Kelly would want you to go on living."

"But I hurt them," cried Gibbs the dam now breaking and tears starting to pour down his face. He wiped them away angrily with the back of his hand only for them to be replaced seconds later with a fresh batch, "I hurt them."

Mike could feel the emotion tearing at his own heart, but to see his Probie in this agony was more than he could stand. He crossed the room to the sofa upon which Gibbs sat clutching the pillow and crying into it. He sat alongside him and pulled the younger man into his arms, rocking him gently as he did and let his tears soak through his shirt.

He continued to do this until the tears started to subside and Gibbs naturally pulled away from him and sat upright again.

"God I'm a mess," declared Gibbs.

"No, despite how you think you ought to be able to handle this Jethro, you are just human," responded Mike. "Now tell me how you hurt them."

"Tim, I paddled him with a shoe, didn't mean to use it, it was just in my hand and I had already lost it with Tony," he began, "and then I yelled at him and Ducky in the middle of the bullpen, I embarrassed him, I destroyed his confidence, god it took him so long to build it up, but he did it with Tony's help, I didn't frighten him away like I did with so many of the others."

"Go on," encouraged Mike, rather glad for a moment at least he didn't have to do all of the talking.

"And then there's Ducky, he was just trying to help, I was rude to him and if I had just listened he wouldn't have gone off and done that stupid interview. I blamed him and McGee but really it is my fault and my responsibility," stated Gibbs.

"Sure you were a complete jackass, but they also know they overstepped the mark too," consoled Mike, "they hold some responsibility in this as well and if you let them I'm sure they would acknowledge that."

"And then there's Ziva and Abby, they were so happy that I was back but their happiness for my return I took as relief that DiNozzo was no longer in charge. They were distracted, they were sarcastic at times, childish at others, I thought that they were like that because Tony had let them get away with it. I thought they needed my discipline, I didn't know they needed my love." The tears were once again flowing.

Mike held him again until his shoulders stopped heaving as much with the racking sobs.

"What about Tony?" asked Mike, "you've mentioned him several times when you talked about the others."

Gibbs was silent, he shook his head and wiped angrily at the tears again.

"I saw him as the pretender to my thrown I guess, the younger, fitter, more savvy version of me," said Gibbs almost as if he was just talking to himself.

"I slapped him down every chance I got, had to re-establish my authority over the team, he was in the way and yet I needed him more than ever, relied on him more than ever," admitted Gibbs, "and then I hit him for real for something I'm guessing a head slap would have cured, maybe even just a glare."

"I went too far with all of them; but with Tony I'm frightened that I can't sort that out. He's distant, he's focused on something else and I'm worried about him, but every time I think I might have found a way to get him to open up and tell me, he shrugs me off or I end up yelling at him. He hates me. I've pushed him too far."

"Sure he doesn't hate you Probie, and maybe he has a lot of other things on his plate," answered Mike, "but give him time, give him space; you know you are not the only one who is grieving, so is DiNozzo in his own way."

"What do you mean Mike?" Gibbs was concerned that he had missed a tragedy in Tony's life.

"He's grieving about you, knucklehead," smirked Mike giving his Probie a none to gentle punch in the shoulder.

"Me? Why? I'm still here."

"When you left him with the team, he spent so long sorting out their grief at the way you went that he had no time to sort out his own," Mike explained, "then I think Jenny has got him working all sorts of stuff and he has never had the time to stop and take stock. Now you have compounded that grief by causing him to be angry with you. He doesn't know whether to hug you or punch you."

The two sat and talked for several hours more, difficult truths were met face on, tears ran quite freely, the way they can only between family. As 1130 approached Mike sent Gibbs to have a nap whilst he sorted lunch for them. Gibbs of course resisted at first but Mike was insistent and once again within seconds of his head touching the pillow Gibbs was asleep.

Leaving the exhausted man to rest Mike made his way downstairs to prepare for the afternoon. Gibbs was going to need all the strength of character he could muster.


	11. Chapter 11

McGee pulled up on the drive but remained in the seat staring at the house for sometime. That front door, always open, was once inviting and he always knew what to expect when he went through it. Either he was going there to be read the riot act and then grounded or he was going there for advice, companionship or help assembling furniture from the man he used to look upon as his surrogate father.

Now it was rather foreboding and two men were inside that struck just a little fear into him. Director Shepherd had simply told him that Mike Franks had asked for him and he was to turn up at the house at 1300 with cold case files and a laptop. Tim didn't know whether this was some elaborate hoax set up by DiNozzo or the invitation to a good hiding from his boss and his mentor.

As the clock ticked over to 1305 Tim was still sat in the vehicle. He couldn't will his legs to carry him through that front door and the more he sat there and tried to analyse the situation the more he didn't want to go in there.

Franks had watched this painful deliberation from the front window and now marched right through the door and onto the front porch.

"McGee, are you going to sit there all day or get yourself in here?" he asked.

Stepping out of the car Tim tried to respond, "um, er …. I'll just… I'll just get the boxes, out of the trunk." He stumbled round to the rear and fumbled with the boxes and laptop therein.

"Aw hell son, give me the boxes," said Franks moving into position alongside Tim and taking the load from him.

"Th…thank yo…you Sir," stammered Tim. "I'm sorry, I…. I should b…be better."

"Get yourself inside McGee and sit yourself down before you fall down," suggested Mike, taking pity on the lad.

Tim nodded and moved into the lounge expecting to find Gibbs waiting for him. When he didn't find him there he experienced a moment of relief until his imagination stirred again and he wondered whether Gibbs was waiting in the basement for him.

As Franks came in depositing the boxes and laptop into a pile in the corner of the room, McGee sprang to his feet.

"What's the matter son?" enquired Mike, mildly curious at the young kids skittish behaviour.

"Well I was kind of expecting Gibbs to be here," Tim began to explain, "guess he wants to um, er, deal with me for filming that confession that we can't use. Unless he is too angry with me and has asked you to deal with it?"

"That bad uh," asked Mike.

"Yes Sir," answered McGee "I know he was already really mad with me, and so he should be, it was a stupid mistake to make, but I wasn't thinking and then he didn't get to deal with it how he wanted and then we all got hauled into the Directors office and well then there was the thing with the gold," Tim had to pause to take a breath, "is he really mad?"

"Don't panic Tim, Probie won't be killing you today," chuckled Mike trying to calm the lad down.

"Park yourself on that sofa again McGee and I'll go get him," commanded Mike, "and try to cut the Sir bit out."

With that Franks went upstairs to get Gibbs. Knocking the door to the bedroom as he entered he called out, "come to see if you need any motivation to get out of bed this time Probie."

Gibbs was already up and came out of the adjoining bathroom drying his face and hands as he did so. "I'm up Boss, you can keep your hands off that brush this time," he joked.

"Good, then I need you to haul your ass downstairs pronto, got someone I want you to see," replied Mike.

As Gibbs descended the stairs he saw Tim sitting on the edge of his couch still looking rather nervous. As the stairs creaked under him it alerted McGee to his presence. Tim shot upright as his boss entered the room. However in the nervousness stakes it was Gibbs who was winning by a long shot. He stopped dead on the stairs and it was only the gently guiding hand of Mike on his shoulder that got him moving again in the direction of the living room.

Intending to address Gibbs, Mike said, "Probie take a seat." The words had the same effect on both men; mildly satisfied and slightly amused by the fact that his words had the desired affect on both men simultaneously he stated, "I'll get the coffees."

When he returned with the thick, strong brown liquid, the two men were still sitting in total silence. "Well shall I do the honours?" he asked holding up the coffee pot and mugs.

"Thanks Boss," answered Gibbs.

"Yeah, thank you Sir… um Mike," McGee corrected himself.

Sighing again as he handed the drinks out Franks tried to break the strange atmosphere. "Look McGee, I asked for you to come here because you and Probie here need to talk, so I'm gonna go sit on the porch and smoke and the pair of you are going to sort this mess out right." And with that he picked up his own cup and walked out leaving the two guys inside.

Tim was the first to break the awkward silence, "look Boss if you don't want me here I'll just finish this and go."

"No Tim," Gibbs spoke at first to the floor by his feet and then raising his eyes to his junior agent, "no don't go, it's just that…" he sighed," I've never been good with words and … well even worse with emotions."

"It's ok Boss we don't have to talk if you feel uncomfortable, I mean unless we need to talk about me screwing up that case interview, and if its that which is causing you the problem, then I can say that although I know you don't like the word sorry I…" McGee was interrupted.

"Tim I'm the one that should be saying sorry and if we are talking about screwing up the case then try giving $60,000 away and then finding out there are another three victims to compensate." Gibbs let out a nervous laugh.

"Did you get into much trouble Boss?" asked McGee genuinely concerned and then panicking added, "of course that's not really any of my business."

Smiling Gibbs responded, "It's ok Tim, it's a fair question and the answer is yes lots."

"Is that what the cold case files are for or is that for me for…" Tim was interrupted once again.

"They're for me McGee, just a small part of the Directors retribution on me for having to deal with SecNav, the FBI and lawyers," explained Gibbs, "and as for all the rest that happened on this case I'd like to draw a line under it and start again, if you'd let me."

Shocked at the turn of events and at the fact that the talk with Gibbs was not going as he had expected McGee asked, "you alright Boss?"

Laughing at the kids concern for his unusual response, Gibbs nodded, "I'm fine McGee, I'm fine."

"So you aren't going to punish me?" asked McGee still not quite believing the turn in the conversation.

"See this as a one time get out of jail free card Tim while Mike finishes extracting my head from my ass where people keep telling me its been since I got back from Mexico," explained Gibbs.

"You sure Boss?" uttered McGee not really thinking through what he was saying, "I mean of course you must be or you wouldn't say it," he added quickly not really that keen to get his Boss to reconsider his veto on this particular punishment."

"Look Tim, I've screwed up far beyond giving away that money," Gibbs began to explain, "and I'm going need your help and your understanding to put it right, that's if you'll let me. Since the explosion my memory has not been as it used to be and I forgot some pretty important stuff; I forgot how our team functioned and why we did so well. I forgot we were a family and well, if you'll let me I'd like to start earning my place back in that family."

Gibbs could feel himself holding his breath, hoping beyond all hope that Tim would give him a second chance.

Tim pondered for a moment, "well Boss he began, I guess the last 4 months has been hell for all of us in some ways and this case was just the straw that broke the camels back." He looked over towards the pile of cold cases which were waiting for the punishment detail to begin, "but I guess we could all do with a fresh start and I owe you for the get out of jail free card, so perhaps I could help you with some of those files and we can work through this together," he offered.

"Tim you don't have to," responded Gibbs choked up at the kids willingness to forgive him so easily.

"Well," shrugged Tim, "someone's going to have to operate that laptop without hurling it through a window."

"Why you cheeky little…" laughed Gibbs and reached over to give Tim a gentle cuff around the ear.

As he made contact, his hand paused and then much to everyone's surprise he pulled Tim into a hug, "Thank you," he whispered into his ear.

Outside on the porch Mike had been keeping one ear on proceedings; rocking back in his chair and lighting another cigarette, he smiled to himself. There was a long way still to go but his Probie was on the way to sorting this mess out.


	12. Chapter 12

That night Tim, Gibbs and Mike sat and talked through case files, Gibbs reviewing, Tim digitizing everything and doing further on line searches, Mike keeping an eye on proceedings. As the evening progressed Mike had called for Chinese food and they had sat together and talked about the teams past cases, Tim filling in some of the parts of the cases and the antics of the team, some of which Gibbs had probably never known about despite the teams general belief that he was "all knowing."

As it got close to 2200, Mike helped them clear up and then sent McGee on his way.

"I'll come back and help you with some more of the files Boss," he offered as he left.

As the door closed on Tim, Mike picked up the trace of a slight yawn on Gibbs face.

"You need to head up to bed," he advised.

"Mike, not twice in a row, I'm really not that tired," argued Gibbs.

"So does that mean I'm not going to have to resort to a good hiding to get you out of bed again in the morning?" joked Mike.

"Ok, Ok," replied Gibbs, "I'll go but I won't sleep."

"We'll see Probie," said Mike, "why don't you go up and I'll bring you a hot cocoa."

Moments later as he entered the bedroom with the hot beverage he found Gibbs fast asleep and snoring contentedly; in his hand he clutched the picture of Shannon and Kelly.

Mike placed the cup down on the nightstand, turned out the bedside light and left Gibbs to sleep.

The next morning he didn't have to wake him at 0530, Gibbs was up and ready and waiting for him in the kitchen, the first pot of coffee already brewing.

"Thought I'd save you the trip upstairs Boss," he greeted him, "I know how age is taking its toll on your knees," he grinned.

"Still enough in them to go and get that hair brush if I need it," quipped Mike in return.

"Nah its ok really Boss, don't want to put you to the bother," quickly replied Gibbs, "Coffee?"

Laughing at Probies attempt to change the conversation, Mike decided to go along with it. "How did you sleep?" he asked.

"Ok I guess," Gibbs lied; he'd dreamt about the explosion and Iraq and the death of his girls all night. At times it had woken him up in a cold sweats. Mike knew this but decided now was not the time to call him on it.

"Well hurry up and eat something, we've got things to do and places to be," ordered Mike.

"Are we going somewhere?" asked Gibbs.

"Later yes, but not until you've done some more of those case files," answered Mike.

Groaning Gibbs looked over to the boxes. He and McGee had gotten about a third of the way through the first box together and that was two of them, using Gibbs experience and Tim's computing prowess. Now it was just him on his own.

"Boss I thought I'd wait until Tim can help me again," tried Gibbs, "It seems to work better like that."

Mike simply raised an eyebrow from over the top of yesterday's morning paper he had picked up to read; todays not yet having been delivered.

Gibbs tried further, "and you said that Jenny was not going to start her punishment with me until Monday Boss."

Putting the paper down Mike fixed his protégé with a cold hard stare. "you're right Probie, Jenny's punishment is delayed until Monday, but this isn't Jenny telling you to do it, it's me. Director Shepherd has got way more files for you to do so you won't run out."

"But Mike," whined Gibbs, "this is just busy work detail and there's no point in it." He gulped as he watched Mikes face turn even more thunderous, if that was humanly possible, "I mean of course there's a point in reviewing old cases, but ah, there's no point me doing any today by myself."

"Why's that Probie, convince me?" asked Mike, still maintaining his glare.

"Well Mike there are other things we could be doing," he began.

"Like working on that there boat of yours, perhaps?" questioned Mike.

"Well yes," answered Gibbs and then seeing Mikes face added, "or fixing up the backyard."

"All things you can do alone hey Probie?" Mike stated picking up his coffee and taking a long slow sip from it.

"Sure Boss," answered Gibbs wondering where Mike was going with this.

"Case files can be done alone too," responded Mike, "guessing that it's just easier doing those things as part of a team."

"Guess so," Gibbs replied still not having worked out where Mike was going with this.

"Well if you're not made to do them alone and just take for granted the help of others then you will never understand the advantage of having a team or a family around you. You'll never fully appreciate what they bring to the group. You will never understand why you let these people into your life in the first place Probie. So if I were you, I'd pick up a file, sit myself down over there at the table and get reviewing. Do you need any further incentive to do as I told you? I'm more than willing to oblige," offered Mike.

Understanding the veiled threat and starting to understand where Mike was coming from Gibbs lost all motivation to continue this discussion, instead turning to the pile and picking up a file and making his way to the table to begin his busy work detail.

At 1000hrs Mike appeared at the table to see how Gibbs was progressing. He'd heard various curses throughout the morning as Gibbs had tried to get to grips with the programme McGee had written to help log the details. It didn't help that all of the typing was one fingered and at one point he'd forgotten to hit save and then closed the programme only to find when he re-opened it all of his hard work was gone.

"Put that away for now, we've got places to be Probie," instructed Mike.

Glad of the respite from the work he hated, Gibbs was quick to respond. "Where are we off to Mike?

"Oh you'll see, get changed and I 'll see you in the car in 10 mins," Mike answered cryptically as ever.

Ten minutes later the two pulled off of the driveway, Franks driving and Gibbs still in the dark as to where they were off to. They pulled up for a few minutes outside a little row of shops, Mike ordering Gibbs to stay in the car and popping inside quickly, returning with a small bag, which he put into the back seat before starting the journey again. As their journey took them to the outskirts of town Gibbs recognized the route to be the one to Ducky's home.

"Um Mike, if we are going to Dr Mallards I'm not sure it's a good idea," attempted Gibbs.

"Why's that Probie?" asked Mike, not in the least intending to change his destination.

"Well I'm thinking that the way things were left between us…. Well its going to take a bit longer for the dust to settle," offered Gibbs.

"Don't always believe in dust settling Probie, best meet these things head on," was the only response Gibbs got.

With that Mike put his foot even harder onto the accelerator and continued the journey.

As they pulled onto the graveled drive leading upto Ducky's old England style house, Mike leant into the back seat pulled out the package he had purchased earlier, shoved it into Gibbs' hands and forced him out of the car. The moment Gibbs closed the passenger door Franks drove off saying he'd be back in a few hours and waving his goodbye.

With no where to retreat Gibbs trudged his way to the front door, peeking into the package to find a box of Duckys favourite tea. He stood for a while at the door, every so often raising his hand to the buzzer but then quickly snatching it away again, worried at what he would be walking into emotionally.

He hadn't seen that Ducky, who had been with the corgis around the side of the property had come around to the front on hearing Franks drive off. Nor did he know that Ducky had watched as his old friend had tried and tried to bring himself to press the buzzer.

Finally he spoke up, "Agent Gibbs that buzzer is perfectly functioning and I can assure you that if you do ever get around to pressing it you will find that it does work and will not electrocute you."

Jumping in response, Gibbs turned to meet Ducky, "sorry Dr Mallard, I just…"

"Just what Agent Gibbs?" Ducky was still clearly annoyed at him and not in the mood for listening to garbled excuses.

"Just trying to work out the best way of saying I'm sorry," answered Gibbs.

"Are you breaking your moratorium on apologies now Agent Gibbs?" Ducky wasn't going to let this one go easily.

"I've always said that apologies were ok between family," offered Gibbs by way of reply.

"Oh so now you remember that we were once like family Jethro, I thought you had forgotten that," stated the doctor as he moved towards the door to open it and let the dogs inside.

"Look, you'd better come in, mother always hates it when I entertain people on the front porch, she says that it lowers the value of the neighbourhood," said Ducky calming a little from his earlier response after he saw the look on Gibbs face.

"Er, this is for you Doctor," Gibbs offered him the bag containing the tea.

"You'd better come through to the kitchen Jethro," said Ducky looking inside the bag, "I think we are going to be needing to make good use of this."

As he sat waiting for Ducky to boil the water and warm the teapot, Gibbs sat at the breakfast counter and scrubbed a hand across his face, "Er Ducky, I really mean what I said about the apology," he began.

Ducky paused in his preparation and turned to him, "that's all well and good Jethro," he said quite kindly, "but I'm afraid I'm going to need to hear what exactly it is you are apologizing for."


	13. Chapter 13

"For everything Ducky, I'm apologizing for everything," Gibbs replied desperately.

"Look Jethro I know you are not normally in the way of giving apologies but I will require the specifics," said Ducky getting a little frustrated at his old friends continued inability to talk about his feeling, emotions or failures, "for instance, I too am sorry Agent Gibbs for interrupting you in your interview, I can see that you have your rules there for a reason and I realize that I could have passed on my professional opinion at some later juncture."

He paused to take a sip of tea, soothing his throat and his temper as he did so, "further I apologise for dragging young Timothy into the interrogation I performed on the husband, I assure you it will not happen again. I wasn't thinking about rules of evidence at the time I was simply thinking about how pig-headed I thought you were being and dismissive of my opinion."

Gibbs went to speak but Ducky was now on a roll and he was intending to get it all out in one go, "and finally Jethro," he said holding his hand up to stop Gibbs, "I'm ashamed about the asinine way both you and I behaved in the bullpen."

"Can I speak now Duck?" asked Gibbs as the doctor seemed to come to an end and had taken to his tea again.

Ducky nodded his consent.

"Where do I begin?" asked Gibbs as much of himself as of the room generally, "there is so much to apologise for and as you have already pointed out I'm not particularly versed in the art of the apology."

"Go on," encouraged Ducky somewhat taken aback by the fact that Jethro was responding in sentences of more than three words.

"Well I'll start with the case and work back," he began, "I never should have been as dismissive of you or your opinions; I know I have rules about interviews and that did annoy me but I guess I have to realize that losing my temper and taking it out on good friends is not the way to handle it, I will work on it Duck, not gonna pretend I can change overnight but I promise I will try."

He himself then paused to take on board a sip of tea, "Then I guess we both acted like asses in the bullpen, I've been doing a lot of that lately, everyone seems to think its down to losing the moustache…"

"Do you?" interjected Ducky, "you could always grow it back."

"That's not gonna work Duck, changing the outside doesn't always change the inside and my inside, well it's a hell of a mess at the moment," commented Gibbs.

"Have you spoken to anyone about it?" enquired the doctor.

"No, just did my usual things and buried it inside washing it down with Bourbon," admitted Gibbs.

"So why the sudden change of heart?" asked Ducky.

"Well a few good friends have shown me that I need to extract my head from my ass and Mike Franks is ensuring that I do it," laughed Gibbs.

"And the drinking Jethro? Have you sorted that? You know I have warned you about you drinking that gut rot that you insist in keeping in your basement and while we are at it spending so much time in that damned basement by yourself and falling asleep in there," chided Ducky.

"Not allowed in there at the moment Duck," explained Gibbs, "Mike has made it impossible for me to get any time in there and he is currently imposing a bedtime on me," he continued quite embarrassed.

"Well I'm glad he has," agreed Ducky, "Its about time someone took you in hand and made sure they were looking after your health!"

Trying to move away from giving Ducky any further opportunity to lecture him on his unhealthy eating and drinking choices, Gibbs stated, "I'd also like to apologise to you about the way in which I acted when you drove me home after I resigned. I should have talked to you, I know you tried to talk to me but I was still feeling so raw and also still quite confused. I should also have let you know when I took off to Mexico, kept in touch and asked you how the graduation went you attended, hell I should have got off of my backside and been there for you….. and finally for now I should have told you years ago about Shannon and Kelly."

Ducky seeing the hurt in the face of one of his oldest friends place a hand on top of Gibbs hand on the counter, "that latter apology is unnecessary Jethro, I don't think any of us should ever have to apologise for trying to hide away pain, but perhaps those of us around you should apologise for never having realized that there was something deeper going on inside you."

This proved to be the undoing of an already emotionally fragile Gibbs, tears poured from his eyes, splashing onto the counter in front of him as he hung his head in shame, "I sorry Duck," he sniffed, "I should probably go."

Moving to take his friend into a caring embrace Ducky replied, "don't even think about running away from this again Jethro, I'm here for you."

"Duck I just miss them so much, I'm so angry at the world, I'm angry at me," he sobbed into the arms of the old doctor.

They remained like this for what seemed like hours but in reality had only been about 30 minutes until Gibbs sat himself up, all cried out and trying to laugh away his embarrassment at being so openly emotional, "so there goes my hard man image Doc."

"Don't be silly Jethro, I've known for years that it's just a façade and deep down inside there is a softer fluffier you." joked the doctor.

"Don't tell the others Duck," begged Gibbs, "I still need a little bit of an edge."

"You think they don't already know?" replied the doctor.

Just then the front door swung open, "Donald," yelled the elderly female voice from the front door, "Are you going to help me?"

"Coming mother," replied Ducky almost tripping over one of the Corgis as he made his way out into the hallway.

He was however rather startled, as was Gibbs who had followed him to find Elizabeth Mallard holding onto one Mike Franks by the ear and belting him with her umbrella.

"Donald," she stated, "I found this hoodlum loitering near to my prize petunias, what are you going to do about it?"

"Mother let him go," commanded Ducky hearing the protestations being made by the old agent and knowing just too well himself how painfully his mothers ear-tweaking was let alone how carried away she was getting with the umbrella, "this is Mike Franks, a friend and old colleague of Jethro's."

"Oh I didn't realize," she said looking up and noticing Gibbs for the first time, "are you boys here to move my grand piano into the front room? Donald has been promising to do it for ages."

"No Ma'am but I'm sure we can give you a hand with it," offered Gibbs, smiling at the way Franks was fluctuating between rubbing his ear and his backside to alleviate the sting delivered by the elderly lady. He didn't often get to see his mentor taken to task and never by an elderly woman.

"Aren't you a dear," she replied gazing into his eyes, "you remind me of my second husband, such beautiful features."

"Mother!" an exasperated Ducky tried to manoeuver his mother and guests into the house. "These are my friends, not here to move the furniture and we have only just moved the piano from the front room."

"Donald, don't talk to me like that," she scolded, "I bet your friends have better manners when they are speaking to their parents."

"Sorry mother," Ducky apologized hoping to bring the scolding to an end, "Jethro we should talk again, perhaps come over for dinner next week."

"Thanks Duck, I would love too if I'm allowed out," said Gibbs with a look over to Franks.

"Oh dear are you in trouble with your parents too?" asked Mrs Mallard.

"Yes ma'am something like that," replied Gibbs, flushing a little as he did.

Bidding the Mallards farewell, Gibbs and Franks made their departure, chuckling a little as they heard Ducky trying to convince his mother that they were not moving the piano again.


	14. Chapter 14

"So how'd it go with you and the good Doctor?" asked Franks turning his head slightly to take in the red-rimmed eyes and tired face of the man sat to his right in the car.

Gibbs turned away, looking out of the window and trying to hide the fact that he had been crying hard. He was embarrassed, he was not usually this emotional, the last time he'd been like this… well that was when he had lost the girls but then, that first time, he had vengeance to focus on and then when he'd lost Kate, well then he had a hunt for her murderer. Now it was as raw as it had been all those years ago but this time he had nothing to try to block it all out with. Now he had to face those emotions head on and he felt weak.

"We talked," the only answer Gibbs could pry from his lips.

"Are you going to take him up on the offer of going there for a meal next week?" asked Mike, desperate to try to break the Probie's silent withdrawal.

No answer.

"Aw hell Probie, this is supposed to show you that people care about you, they will forgive you but you gotta be prepared to meet them half way and forgive yourself," continued Mike.

Gibbs continued to stare quietly out of the car window, tears, silent ones rolled again down his face.

"Don't know why they are prepared to forgive me," he muttered.

"Whatya mean by that?" said Mike pulling the car over to the side of the road. "Probie look at me and tell me what you mean by that."

Mike took hold of Gibbs chin and gently turned it back towards him, seeing the clear distress, he continued to talk, "They will forgive you because over the years you have forgiven them; so you get it wrong, badly wrong this once and you need to eat a bit of humble pie, but they have never forgotten their love for you, you just need to re-find that love you had for all of them."

"Not sure it is going to be that easy with the rest of them, Ziva is independent, Abby gets her ideas and opinions and its very hard to shift her once she is on a course and Tony…." Gibbs trailed off.

"What about Tony?" pushed Mike, knowing that was going to be the biggest hurdle.

"I've done to him what everyone has done to him in the past, let him in, let him settle, find a home and then just whipped it from under his feet, his father did it, boarding schools, Peoria PD, Philli PD, Baltimore, the list is endless and it took me years to get him to trust me, years to get him to feel like he belonged and then in such a short space of time I destroyed it all. Perhaps he should move on, perhaps they all should, before I hurt them again. Perhaps I should go," he explained.

"Answer me this Probie," asked Mike, "you did leave them once, but then you came back, why?"

"Cos Ziva needed help," the short reply.

"And once you'd helped her, why'd you stay?" he asked.

"Well Fornell needed some help and then…." began Gibbs.

"Seems to me as them's all excuses Probie," Mike interrupted, "you got to start being honest with yourself and get over all of this maudlin, self doubt, sorry for yourself because you think you've failed crap."

"I have failed," shouted Gibbs.

"So you got it wrong, big news, you aren't perfect Probie." Mike then added, "so seems to me that either you go home pack a bag and come back to Mexico with me and drink your life away on a beach or you fight for what's important. No other choice Probie. That's it, fight or flight. Are you really the marine you told us all you were all these years."

Gibbs didn't answer, in fact in that moment he didn't know what he was doing, he just got out of the car and ran. By the time Franks realized what he was up to he was gone. He didn't answer his cell when Franks called it. He'd gone.

Franks drove around for the next few hours, he checked the diner, various bars, he rang the rest of the team. He rang Fornell and Jenny. No one had seen him. They all tried the places he would go. Nothing. As they all assembled at his home, working out how to widen the search perimeters, McGee trying to get a location on his phone, Ziva running checks on credit cards, Tony calling in favours with the local LEO's, Fornell had the FBI calling in a few favours, Jenny and Mike talked in hushed whispers about the fact that if he truly wanted to go to ground he knew how to.

Abby appeared from the kitchen with Palmer and Ducky carrying warm drinks and food for all involved in the search. As they all took a moment to eat the front door slammed open and in staggered an extremely drunk Gibbs. They had all seen him have a few drinks in the past but never on this scale.

"Franks, Boss," he slurred, "I found another option. Fight, flight or drink. Guess which I took."

"No need to guess Probie, where the hell you been, you're soaking wet," scolded Franks, "you trying to kill yourself?"

"See now there's a fourth option," hiccoughed Gibbs. "You're good at this."

"You stupid, selfish son of a bi…." began Franks taking a step towards the younger man in order to drag him into the warmth and attempt to pour coffee down his throat to sober him up; but he never got a chance. As he stepped towards the drunken agent, Gibbs took a swing at him; not the most powerful, probably due to the lack of co-ordination, but it still connected with Franks' jaw.

Gibbs fell forward with the force of his effort, only to be caught by Fornell and Tony. Not however happy with the situation, he tried to spin out of their grip, lunged back at Mike, tripped over his own feet and hit the floor. Once down, he was out for the count.

Whilst Palmer and Ducky checked Franks out, Fornell, Tony and Tim carried Gibbs upstairs and laid him on his side on the bed.

"Can you get him a glass of water Tim and some aspirins," asked Tony, "Tobias will you help me get him out of these wet clothes and into something warm."

The three worked swiftly, not wanting to wake him in case he decided to come swinging at them. It was bad enough that he had struck Mike, but Mike would kill him if he took a swing at any of his team. It was Mike who had trained him to protect them.

As the others made their way downstairs, Tony stayed for a while, making sure the gentle snoring stayed just that. As he looked around the room he noticed the picture of Shannon and Kelly and as he picked it up to look at it his hand knocked against the hard backed wooden hairbrush. Had Franks used that to spank Gibbs? Would the Boss allow Mike to do that? Is it Franks from whom Gibbs had learnt his team control tactics? If so, then surely Franks would kill him with that brush. Placing the photo frame back down, Tony picked up the brush, turning it over a couple of times in his hands, he made the decision. He put it in his pocket, out of harms way, he could return it later.

Tony settled himself into the armchair, pulled the blanket over himself and started his vigil. The others stayed downstairs, planning, deciding how to handle this latest development, but Tony stood guard.

At 0700 hours Ducky entered the room. Gibbs was still asleep, the water and pills waiting at the side of his bed. Tony had nodded off but jerked suddenly awake as Ducky entered.

"Anthony, my dear boy, go home get showered and changed and get some sleep, he'll be fine," whispered Ducky, "Go on."

Standing slowly and trying to stretch out his aching limbs, Tony looked across at his Boss. As he made his way out of the room, he stopped and turned back to Ducky, "Don't let Mike kill him, Duck." With that he was gone.


	15. Chapter 15

Franks entered the bedroom and took up the armchair that DiNozzo had stayed in through the night. He watched the gentle rise and fall of the chest of his Probie. In sleep he looked more at peace but a strain could still be seen on his face.

Franks reached over to the drawers and picked up the photo of the girls. He had not known Gibbs in happier times; he had never known him not pained by their loss and was not sure that he ever would. As he picked it up he noticed that the hairbrush was no longer on the side. It was probably a good thing. He touched his jawline still hurting from the night before. He wondered whether anyone had ever been killed by a hairbrush.

Gibbs struggled to open his eyes, the sun was too bright and his head was banging, he felt nauseas. As he gained a little focus he spied the water and the pills on the bedside table. He reached out carefully to pick them up. Who had placed them there? Then it struck him, he had got plastered last night, he'd sat for hours in the park with a bottle of bourbon and if he remembered correctly a vagrant who had fallen asleep on his shoulder at one point. How had he got back? He could recall it raining and getting soaked but he was now in dry clothes…. and then he recalled the welcoming committee and his run in with Franks…and then he recalled a punch.

He groaned out loud, not the groan of a man waking with a hangover, although that could have been expected, but rather the groan of a man who realized he had done something so stupid that there was no way back from it.

He sank back down onto the bed, not having seen Franks sat there watching him agonise as vague recollections of the night before swam back into his severely de-hydrated brain. As he lay there with the room swimming, he suddenly had that feeling of cold tingling going down his spine, his mouth filling with saliva and a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. Pushing himself out of his bed he just managed to make it to the bathroom before relieving his stomach of its contents. Wiping his mouth he looked in the mirror. The face that looked back was old and haggard; he splashed water on it as if it would be a miracle cure.

Only when he staggered back into the bedroom did he noticed Franks sat there waiting for him. He winced at the thought of what was to come, how could he stop it and if not stop it, perhaps delay it just until his head was fine.

"Morning Probie," Mike greeted him coldly and with a certain amount of menace.

Gibbs didn't answer, instead turning and running back to the bathroom where he started heaving again. When it finally stopped he re-entered the room where Franks was still waiting, no less menacing than before.

"Get dressed and get down stairs Probie," Franks ordered, "there's people down there need to know you are still alive," he paused then added, "for the minute anyway."

With that he pulled himself from the chair and left.

Gibbs just wanted to go back to bed and sleep until it had all gone away just like a bad dream but knowing the tone that Franks was using he dared not even ask let alone attempt it. Pulling on sweat pants and a t-shirt he padded bare footed down the stairs. His lounge and kitchen were filled with people, Fornell cooking breakfast, Palmer washing up, Ducky making a pot of tea and complaining about having to use tea-bags, Jenny on the phone doing business, Tim and Abby putting away sheets and blankets they had all used the day before and Ziva just coming back from the store with a few extra groceries. They all stopped dead as Gibbs made his entrance.

Gibbs scanned the assembled group; they had all been there for him, they had all stayed, they hadn't abandoned him despite his appalling behaviour but whilst he should have been happy he instead focused on the one negative. There was no sign of Tony anywhere.

"You got something you need to say to these good people Probie," growled Franks approaching him from behind.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Gibbs, embarrassed as hell by the way he was being made to apologise like the child dragged out by the parent to atone for their sins in front of all the relatives they'd ever known.

"Didn't quite catch that Probie," boomed Franks in his ear, causing Gibbs to wince and close his eyes against the pain banging away inside his head, "try again and try looking them in the eye, see what you've done to them."

"I'm really sorry, all of you," Gibbs tried again, "I don't deserve your support but thank you anyway." His head then sank back to the floor.

Abby as mad as she had been couldn't stand to see anyone suffer and especially not Gibbs. Within seconds she was across the floor and was squeezing him tightly.

Jenny seeing the queasiness on Jethro's face stepped in, "Abby I think you need to let him breathe and stand clear, I think he is still suffering from his drinking session last night."

Grateful for both the hug and the release, Gibbs tried to smile his thanks at the pair of them but the strain only made his head feel worse.

Ziva stepped forward holding a mug of coffee and handed it to him. "My family normally drinks chamomile tea as a cure for a hangover," she declared, "but you don't seem to have any and there was none at the store, I am hoping black coffee does the job for you."

Gibbs gratefully accepted the mug.

"I'll save you some breakfast to warm up," said Fornell, "you don't look up to eating any at the moment."

"Thanks," mumbled Gibbs, still embarrassed by the fact that they were all there to witness his misery and that they had all seen his weakness the night before.

"Sit yourself down Probie," commanded Franks.

The group parted leaving a way for Gibbs to get to the couch and sink into it.

"Well," said Ducky, "I know that Mr palmer and I have an inventory to do that can't wait, we'd better be on our way."

"Yeah Abs and I were going to look at that sequencing error that keeps coming up on the mass spec," said Tim, grabbing Abby's hand and pulling her to the door before she started to protest.

One by one they all took their leave, making themselves scarce whilst Franks dealt with Gibbs.

Ziva was the last to go. She approached him and gently kissed his cheek, "I'll come back later and we can go for a walk," she said.

As the front door closed behind her Franks moved the table in front of Gibbs and sat down on it in front of him.

"I ought to tan your backside from here back to Mexico Probie," threatened Mike, "but I'm not sure I would stop when I got there, or that it would do you any good. So instead you and me are going to have a real heart to heart and then we are going to work out if we can save you."

"Boss," began Gibbs, "about last night, I don't know what I was thinking. Your jaw… are you alright?"

"Nothing I haven't had to deal with before," the short response. "Doesn't mean that you are off the hook with it though."

"Are you, uh, are you really not going to belt me because Boss, I'm really not feeling too good at the moment and I don't think…"

"That you'd be able to stand it without throwing your guts up all over that sofa," finished Mike, "besides I'd need to talk to DiNozzo first."

"Tony?" questioned Gibbs slightly perplexed, "Why?"

"Well I'd need to get the wooden brush back from him and my belt that he took when he didn't think I was looking," laughed Mike.

"Tony was here?" asked Gibbs.

"Kid carried you up to bed, got you out of those wet clothes and kept watch on you all night," Mike informed him, "wouldn't let anyone else do it. He was about dead on his feet this morning so Ducky sent him home to shower and sleep, just before you woke up. Kid left taking any implements of punishment he could find."

"He did that for me?" Gibbs was still shocked at the turn in events; he thought Tony had abandoned him. He had misjudged him again.

"Well Probie either that or he is intending on using them on you himself and wanted to be first in line!"


	16. Chapter 16

The conversation that flowed between Gibbs and Franks was not an easy one, due in part to Gibbs head feeling like an entire 4 July marching band had paraded through there and kept getting encores.

Mike would let him drink, water that is, and had banned him from his favourite beverage until he had re-hydrated. He'd managed a little food but in reality his appetite was not really there.

Where the conversation had become heated Mike had struggled to hold his temper, reminding himself that the Probie was grieving and hurting. Belting him for his actions was not going to work at this juncture, not that he could anyway, Tony had done a thorough job of clearing the house, not a belt, brush, paddle or wooden spoon to be seen.

As the hangover subsided a little, Gibbs began to get a little more of his belligerence back. One minute he would be accepting his wrong-doing and when then called out on the next one he would first tackle it with an acerbic comment or sarcasm. On the last of these occasions Mike had enough.

"Probie, I've warned you three times already about that mouth of yours getting you into ever deeper trouble," warned Mike, "now I suggest you try that answer again and this time leave the sarcasm out."

"Or what?" Gibbs poked at him, in the event not the wisest question he had ever asked.

Mike didn't use words to answer, instead he stood him up pushed him over the back of the couch and delivered twelve stinging smacks to his rear-end.

"That give you an answer?" he replied as he pushed him back down onto his seat. "DiNozzo couldn't take my hands Probie."

Gibbs sulked like the surly teenager he was behaving like.

"Next time I'll pull you over my knee, you tell your brood that they are not too old for that kind of treatment, well in my book and at my age neither are you," Mike continued to lecture.

"Just try that," Gibbs answered, not necessarily intending for the response to be said out loud.

Before he knew it Mike had pulled him across his lap and had delivered another harsh round of smacks before shoving him back onto his now stinging backside.

"If you think you are going to provoke me into spanking you until you break down in tears, until you feel you have released all of your guilt, then you're wrong Probie. I know from past history that doesn't work with you and it sure as hell doesn't work with grief. The two things, guilt and grief, are totally different beasts. However if you keep up with the mouth I can keep delivering blistering smacks to your bare ass. It won't break you, it won't rid you of grief but its gonna make it damn difficult for you to sit there reviewing those case files on a sore backside." He lectured.

Gibbs didn't respond but something inside of him was awoken. A memory of his father having the same conversation with him after his mothers death. He had struggled with that and at 14 had the attitude of a teenager to contend with as well. He had taken everything out on his dad even though he was hurting too and when he had taken and had drunk a bottle of alcohol from his fathers general store and tried to drink himself into oblivion his father had taken him to task; only difference then was his father was made to keep delivering the spankings as the young Gibbs would not keep his mouth shut.

The older Gibbs at least had the sense to know when he was beat and stop.

"I'm sorry Boss," he muttered, "I'll watch my mouth and my temper."

"Good, now go upstairs and put some clothes on for going out; Ziva will be over shortly," ordered Mike.

"Er Boss I'm not sure I'm up to that," ventured Gibbs, "and jeans are gonna rub."

"Should have thought of that sooner," was the only answer he got. Mike then pointed to the stairs, "Go."

Thirty minutes later Gibbs had still not emerged from the bedroom. Mike went to find him. As he knocked the door and entered he found him changed into the clothes as ordered but leant against the window, looking out into the back yard, clutching the photo of his girls to him.

Mike crossed the room to where he was stood and wordlessly turned him towards him and took him into his arms, placing his head onto his shoulder and rubbing calming circles onto his back, "Aw son, we'll get through this I promise you, I won't leave you until you are back on track."

Those few words alone proved Gibbs' undoing; he hugged Mike back as if his life depended on it; and moments later as hot tears fell onto the old mans shoulder he heard the words, "they're gone Mike, they're gone."

"I know boy, but they're not forgotten," he whispered back, they'll never be forgotten." Then he just held him.

A short while later Mike sat Gibbs down gently on the edge of the bed. Giving him a cold damp cloth he'd fetched from the bathroom he spoke, "why don't we try to sort those eyes of yours out before Ziva gets here, she'll think I've beaten you."

"You did," Gibbs reminded him and rubbed his butt, which still smarted a little.

Cuffing him gently round the ear, Mike chuckled, "that was no beating son but I could demonstrate one if you are having any difficulty telling the two apart."

"No Mike, it's fine, I'm beginning to remember the difference all of sudden," he answered, and then turning serious he added, "I am really sorry you know for punching you and the mouth."

"I know son, shall we draw a line under it and start again, you'd have to do a damn sight more to get me to abandon you, you know," Mike ruffled his hair and laughingly added, "mind you, not that I want you to try, could ruin my beautiful features."

The door bell rang disturbing their moment.

Gibbs was sent to open it, only to find Ziva standing there, two poses of beautiful white and pink flowers in her hand.

"I thought we could go on a little walk if you're feeling up to it?" she enquired.

"Sure thing Ziva," said Gibbs grabbing a jacket and following her out of the house, "where are we going?"

"To pay someone a visit," she answered as she put her hand in his and guided him along the path.

As they approached the gates to the little cemetery she felt Gibbs freeze.

"I find that when I'm hurting most and missing my mother and Tali that if I talk to them, they'll guide me through it all," she said leading him into the grounds and towards two beautifully carved stones, laid side by side bearing the names Shannon and Kelly.

Gibbs sank to his knees in front of them. Ziva placed the flowers carefully on the graves and touching his shoulder quietly whispered, "I'll wait for you over there, when you are ready to leave and we'll all be there for you when you need us."


	17. Chapter 17

Sweeping a few stray leaves away from the grass, which covered the graves, a fresh wave of grief overcame him. It wasn't like before though, he no longer wanted to burst into tears at the drop of a hat. Seeing their graves in front of him reminded him that they were gone, but running his fingers over the lettering of their names etched into the stone made him feel that he could still have a connection with them. It was the first time he had visited the graves since he had run off to Mexico and they were part of the reason he had returned, but until confronted with those stones in front of him he had not been able to bring himself to visit.

He spoke out to himself as much as to them, "ah girls the old man has really screwed this one up good and proper… Shan I've broken so many of those damn rules you and I made you'd be real mad… not that I didn't love you getting a little fiery at me, you used to get this cute twitch in your nose that I used to love and then I'd laugh, you'd slap me and then it would be all ok; I think our Kelly had that too, not as pronounced but I used to catch her practicing it in the mirror."

Shifting to sit down as his knees were starting to ache, he leant back against the stones, he could feel the heat they had collected in the sunlight and it felt like a warm arm wrapped around him.

"So what do you think girls, is there any hope for this old fool?... They all keep telling me to go on to lean on them, but I'm supposed to be the one to protect them… but I do need them you know… Tim, he keeps me young, helps me with all this new fangled techno babble stuff always there to help me, you'd have loved him Kelly… and then there's Ziva… she's a soul that needs saving and yet I need her to save mine…. Abby, well she provides the hugs and the love, but man she's strong… Ducky, well he provides the wisdom and the stories, Shan I bet you and he would have sat and talked for hours and he would have spoilt you to bits Kells….and Tony, well he reminds me of the young me, not as handsome of course, although he'd tell you different, plays the fool but hides his caring and protective side. Kelly he would have been the perfect big brother for you."

He close his eyes and imagined their faces looking upon him, in his mind he could hear Kelly's giggles and whoops of joy as he used to spin her around until they were both dizzy. He could hear Shannon telling him off for making Kelly dizzy and sick before dinner and then laughing herself and swatting him with her hands as he'd pick her up and spin her around in the same way.

He didn't know how long he had been there but he could feel the afternoon sun starting to fade and when he opened his eyes he could see Ziva still stood there, waiting, drawing her coat closer around her shoulders as she felt the evening chill coming on, but never leaving him.

He stood up at the graveside, touching each stone in turn and promising he'd be back again soon. He felt at peace, for the first time in a long time his head was clearing and he could see a way ahead. Sure there were going to be hurdles and some of those were going to be huge but he knew he would get through it.

Finally making his way back over to where Ziva waited, he wrapped a warming arm around her shoulders, pulled her too him and kissed her forehead, just as he used to do with Kelly. "Should we go home?" he asked her.

Smiling and taking his hand once again Ziva answered, "I'd like that, and I will come back here with you again."

As they entered the front door they could hear pandemonium coming from inside.

"Mike," yelled Abby, "put that desert down, you'll ruin your appetite. Tim, not you too."

As Ziva and Gibbs entered into the kitchen they could see that Tim had lifted the apple pie way above his head to stop Abby grabbing it back from him and was signaling to Mike to grab the cream and two forks so that they could both pinch some.

"Can anyone join in?" Gibbs asking smiling at the scene of chaos that stood before him.

"Tell them to hand over the desert Gibbs," beseeched Abby.

"Oh I was about to tell them to grab a fork for me too," laughed Gibbs.

"Uh men, Ziva will you help me out here," asked Abby hoping to find at least some support in the room.

"Uh, oh," spluttered Ziva through a mouthful of fried green beans.

"Zi…" cried Abby, "you too?"

"So delicious Abby, you should be pleased we all appreciate your culinary skills so much," she laughed.

"Right that's it, put the pie down and back away from the kitchen," she warned picking up a ladle she had been using as she couldn't find any wooden spoons, "you will all go and wash your hands and sit politely at the table and when I am satisfied that you are all well enough behaved, then you can eat," she nodded as if to emphasize her judicial decree.

"Yes ma'am," laughed Franks, "but just remember to feed the oldest first, takes me longer to chew!"

"Is Tony joining us?" asked Gibbs hopefully.

"Sorry Boss he told us he had another doctors appointment and then needed an early night," answered Tim, seeing the disappointment passing over Gibbs' face.

Gibbs trying to show that it had not bothered him as much as it had, tried to make a joke of it by stating that would at least mean he wouldn't eat up all of the pie, but he was not fooling anyone of the assembled crew.

As the meal drew to a close and the last crumb of pie and drip of cream was scooped off of the plates, Franks could see tiredness coming over Gibbs.

Commenting on the time, he turned to the team and suggested that they should get going before he stuck them with the wash up duty rather than Gibbs. He shooed them out the door and turned back to the kitchen to see Gibbs collecting the dishes and making his way over to the sink.

"Why don't you leave them to me?" he offered.

"I thought you had put me on KP punishment as well?" answered Gibbs.

"Nah, not tonight Probie," he laughed, "but a good idea for future infractions."

"You're not that mean Boss," laughed Gibbs.

"And there I was thinking you knew me better than that Probie," Mike grinned.

"I'll hit the shower and bed," said Gibbs.

"Lord be praised," joked Mike, "he's going without a fight."

Picking up the towel, Gibbs cheekily struck out with it; catching Mike on the back of the legs, he then took off running.

"You can run Probie, but this old man can still get you," he warned, laughing as he turned back to the pile of washing up he'd just volunteered to do.

As Gibbs lay there in bed, more peaceful than he'd been for a while there was only one niggling worry that remained. Where was Tony?

He eventually drifted off into another fitful sleep unaware of the figure that had slipped quietly into the room, sat in the armchair, covered himself with a blanket and kept guard.


	18. Chapter 18

The night was a difficult one, the wind was hammering the rain against the windowpane and lightning lit up the stormy sky. The weather matched Gibbs' nightmares.

Several times Tony had feared that Gibbs was going to wake screaming, and had sat on the side of the bed rubbing his temples and soothing away the pain he saw in the face that laid before him.

Tony was worn out too; keeping the work going in Gibbs' absence over the last few days had been fine; he'd run the team only a few short weeks before. He was on top of it. Jeanne was working night shifts and he had only managed to spend the odd half hour with her as he drove her to the hospital and kissed her good-bye. However that hadn't meant that he'd had any free time. The op to gather intel on Le Grenouille was hotting up, Jenny had him running various undercover personas, almost to the point he was struggling to recall which one he was in at the time; and he wasn't sleeping, he was worrying about the Boss.

He'd been hurt by the way he'd returned, but he was glad to have him back. He was upset by the constant putdowns but saw that Gibbs was just trying to re-assert his place as the lead and at times Tony did forget and try and run the show; but what he couldn't comprehend was why Gibbs was pushing him away.

He knew the Boss still had issues with his memory, that's why he stayed and didn't take the other offers.

What he could not take was the unfair punishment. Tony DiNozzo had dealt with a whole world of unfairness in his life but he'd kept going through it. He had had to watch his own back for so many years, until he'd found Gibbs, or rather Gibbs found him. Sure, it didn't mean that everything in the garden became instantly rosy but he knew that Gibbs had his back, and most importantly for him he knew that Gibbs appreciated him for having his.

He'd never experienced this before; and he was angry with himself that he'd allowed himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. He'd relaxed… and then Gibbs, the man who he saw as a father; a role model; punished him unfairly.

He knew the 'chick fight' comment had been stupid, he knew it the moment it had left his lips and he'd kicked himself for it, and maybe it had led to McGee filming everything, he wasn't sure, but he did know one thing; he hadn't directed it and the Boss had just assumed he had.

Still, after all this he cared, he needed to be a part of this mans life, part of his team, part of his family, but if he stayed too close he feared he would be hurt again and he couldn't stand that thought. Better to be on the periphery of the team than not to be on it at all, help where he could and keep his head down most of the time.

Another crash of lightening and a sudden burst of wind through the slightly open window interrupted his thoughts and sent a small vase flying off of the window ledge. Tony couldn't react in time to catch it and cursed silently as it hit the floor breaking into several pieces and waking Gibbs.

As Tony tried to pick up the pieces and creep out of the room to dispose of them and give Gibbs chance to fall back to sleep, he heard the bed creak as Gibbs sat up.

"Tony is that you?" came a slightly croaky dried voice from the bed.

"Sorry Boss didn't mean to wake you, I'll just go," apologised Tony.

"Tony, please, don't leave," begged Gibbs, knowing that this might be his only chance to get the young man to talk to him.

"Boss, you need your sleep, I'll just get in the way of it all," DiNozzo tried to convince him.

"Is that why you've been watching my back the last two nights, Tony," asked Gibbs, "because you didn't want to get in the way? Is that why you've been watching my back ever since I returned?"

"Well no, I thought that…" Tony's response trailed off.

"You thought that Mike might actually kill me for all the stupid stunts I've pulled since I've been back?" Gibbs finished his thoughts. "My backside and I thank you for de-cluttering my house of all unnecessary implements; although we could do with a cooking spoon back."

Tony laughed, he'd not heard Gibbs joke for a long time. "So it worked then?"

"Yeah, well almost, Mike is pleased you didn't chop his hands off and take them with you," continued Gibbs.

Horrified that Gibbs had been spanked despite his best endeavours to stop it Tony was just about to apologise when Gibbs stopped him.

"I deserved it Tony, and it was just a few swats not a proper spanking," explained Gibbs. "Now will you come and sit down so I don't have to strain my eyes to see you?"

"You sure?" asked Tony, a little uncertain as to where this was leading.

"Yup 100%," replied Gibbs.

As Tony perched on the edge of the bed facing Gibbs, Gibbs was taking in a deep breath and preparing himself for his hardest but most important conversation yet.

"Look Tony I need you to listen, believe me and let me get this all out in one go," he started. Tony just nodded.

"I've been a complete moron Tony and not just since I got back. When I left you, my head was all over the place, I was angry at the Navy, I was grieving for Shannon and Kelly and I never stopped to think about what it was all doing to you guys; but I'm proud of you though, for holding the team together, it can't have been easy; and then I came back and I was jealous, I wanted back what I had given to you and like a child I just snatched it away and I had no right to do that and especially not to you. I know you have continued to keep this team together despite everything that's been thrown at you from all of us and I should have stopped it and there are no excuses for why I didn't and if you give me a chance I'll put a stop to it but if you want me to, I'll walk away and give back what I shouldn't have taken."

Taking another deep breath he moved on. He placed a finger under Tony's chin and raised it so he could look into his eyes, "and then there's the way I treated you in that conference room, Tony that's unforgiveable and I will understand if you never trust me again, I screwed up big time and my greatest fear is that I'm going to lose you."

Tony could feel the tears welling in his own eyes and could see them dropping down Gibbs' face.

"I don't want you to go away and I don't want to leave you," replied Tony choking back the tears that were now falling, "I couldn't bear that but I'm not sure I can take another beating unfairly given."

"Tony I know I need to win back your trust and your respect and if that means I never lay a hand on you again even if I think you do deserve it then I won't, we'll find some other way," promised Gibbs, "just give me a chance to try to put this right."

Tony sobbed and Gibbs pulled him in close, his own tears dropping with Tony's onto the duvet below them. "Please Tony," sobbed Gibbs, "I've lost a wife and a daughter and I couldn't bear to lose a son too. Please give me one last chance."

Tony's heart broke, he clung to the man he looked up to and loved and sobbed like he had never cried before. Gibbs held him, rubbing his back, trying to comfort the boy who he had hurt so much, who he loved so much.

"I love you son," he sobbed.

"I love you too Dad."

In the passageway outside the door Franks was choking back his own emotions. He gently pulled the door to leaving the pair to work through this. They would make it.

He returned downstairs and despite the lateness of the hour, he poured himself a scotch, picked up the phone and called the Director.

He didn't wait for her to ask who was calling, he simply said, "They're gonna be fine Jenny, they're gonna make it."

Her response, "now don't let him grow that damned moustache back."


End file.
